


me: i love you

by TheMayBellTree



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Bipolar!Ouma, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship through texting, Internalized Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kinda Romeo & Juliet but not really, LOTS of insomnia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, OCD!Saihara, Sexuality Crisis, Shuichi also has a bit of depression, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, a whole cocktail of misunderstandings, honestly not really that bad it just focuses on them being teens, teen crushes, while mentally ill, while navigating through life and relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMayBellTree/pseuds/TheMayBellTree
Summary: Kokichi Ouma was awake.Me: Heeeeey~! Saihara-chan! Are you up?Shuichi Saihara was awake.Me: yeah, i’m upor: the story of two awkward teenage boys as they navigate through life, sexuality, insecurity, and everything in between, all while keeping their evolving friendship a secret.





	1. me: yeah, i'm up

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I literally just got the idea for this and started writing this all tonight after reading a bunch of negative comments about bipolar people (side note: I'm bipolar) because the stigma made me sad. I haven't been in the best place at all the past couple months (hence the delay on Despairingly Perfect, for any of you keeping up with that (though the chapter is slowly getting done) ), and I've been obsessed with Oumasai, so here we are!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The night was long, tedious and tiresome. Kokichi Ouma still couldn’t sleep.

 

With a heavy sigh, he swung around in his bed, plopped his feet on the ground, and stood up, stretching out his tense muscles and cracking his neck. It didn’t matter too much, anyhow. He had overslept a bit yesterday, so one night of little sleep wouldn’t hurt him too bad.

 

He brought out his phone, clicking it on and checking the time. _2:37 a.m._ He hadn’t gotten any texts from when he had last checked, which was… ten minutes ago. He briefly debated waking up the group chat, but knowing his ‘friends’ they would be more likely to curse him out and yell at him than actually engage him in meaningful conversation.

 

… in a way, that piqued his interest more.

 

He tapped his thumb on the screen of his blackberry rhythmically, humming a melody under his breath that he _definitely_ hadn’t heard from Sayaka Maizono’s newest album, “Gooshie Gooey Love!”. Definitely not.  

 

_What to do?_

 

His mind was racing. Realistically, he knew that he could get up and do _anything_ he wanted right now. Literally anything. Yet he still sat confined to his bed, the lock on his door shut tight and his bare feet unwilling to move an inch. He wiggled his toes. They still worked fine. Why didn’t he work fine?

 

 _Me:_ Heeeeey~! Saihara-chan! Are you up?

 

He waited. And waited. No response.

 

That’s bullshit. Saihara was the literal embodiment of anxiety, and he had overheard him remark on more than one occasion to Akamatsu that he suffered from insomnia.

 

In his mind’s eye, he had envisioned Saihara in the exact same predicament as him: standing by his bed, tapping his blackberry, and waiting for somebody to text him. Despite his brilliant ideas and his perfect vision, Saihara still didn’t text him back.

 

With a frustrated sigh and a hand ran through his tousled hair, Kokichi threw his blackberry onto his mattress. It bounced softly. Kokichi didn’t see the screen light up.

 

He had already finished his homework, too. He had read every book that he had rented from the library and every book currently sat on his dusty old shelf. He had watched every DVD he owned and he had forgotten his laptop bag in class, so he couldn’t even surf the web. He supposed that he could watch YouTube on his phone, but it was already low on battery and the power outlet was in the far corner of his room, far away from his bed and any source of comfort. Kokichi wasn’t quite desperate enough to watch videos put out by YouTubers that he hardly even liked hunched over in a corner.

 

So Kokichi stared.

 

If he stared hard enough, he could almost see a figure in the doorway, winking and blowing a kiss at him in the darkness. A trick of the mind, obviously. Kokichi wasn’t naive enough to believe in _ghosts_ of all things.

 

_(... although that would explain that weird knocking he kept hearing…)_

 

* * *

 

 

 _Me:_ yeah, i’m up

 

Shuichi Saihara was staring.

 

If he looked hard enough, he could almost see a figure in his doorway, winking and blowing him a kiss.

 

Ridiculous, obviously.

 

He glanced at his phone once more. A trick of the light had made it look like the screen had glowed, but nevertheless it was just as black and bleak as before.

 

His fingers twitched. He wanted to pick up his phone again. He wanted to text Ouma again. Ouma had obviously texted him for a reason, right? Even if he was a pest on the best of days, he was much better company than this black nothingness.

 

He gave into his impulse.

 

 _Me:_ can’t sleep?

 

After a moment, Ouma responded.

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ I don’t know, maybe I’m doing evil supreme leader duties right now! Supreme leaders have to be nocturnal, ya know! Nishishishi~!”

 

 _Me:_ if you’re so busy, why’d you text me?

 

 _Me:_ … also, did you just type your laugh?

 

Despite himself, Shuichi found himself smiling.

 

Yes, Kokichi Ouma really was a pest, and Shuichi had to restrain himself from punching him in the face usually multiple times in one sitting, but on his best days he really was someone that he didn’t mind talking to.

 

On his worst days… well, that’s another story.

 

* * *

 

 

Kokichi yawned for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Staying up all night texting Saihara hadn’t been the _best_ idea, but it’s not like he would’ve been able to sleep anyways. Besides, Saihara was interesting! Much more interesting than the other scrubs at Hope’s Peak Academy.

 

“Hey, virgin!” Miu Iruma dropped down next to him at his lunch table. Quite honestly, on days like these Kokichi preferred to eat alone, leaving his antics for the teachers. Iruma was always alone too, so she must view it as her duty to personally annoy the hell out of the only other person that nobody liked. “What’s up, you stay up all night jacking it?”

 

Kokichi glared at the girl, but when he turned away from her he must’ve made the mistake of accidentally looking at Shuichi instead. Iruma slapped the table, spilling just the slightest bit of his chocolate milk and knocking the chair just next to him a few inches back. “No fuckin’ way! You boned the other virgin!”

 

“You wish, not everyone’s as much of a cumslut as you, Iruma.”

 

“H-Hey! That’s…”

 

“You’re boring me, I’m going to go now,” he made to stand up, grabbing firmly onto his tray and the remnants of his milk. Just before he left, Iruma called his name, gesturing for him to sit down again. Knowing full well that he’d regret it later, Kokichi complied.

 

Iruma fiddled with the ends of her hair, peering just barely at Kokichi behind her bangs. True to character, the submissive side of her personality had come out as soon as Kokichi had had the gall to insult the self-proclaimed genius beauty. What a joke. “H-Hey… listen, if you ever do want to--”

 

“No.”

 

“W-Wait, you didn’t even--”

 

“I don’t need to finish hearing what you’re saying before saying no. You’re _so_ boring, Iruma. Keep it in your pants, god.”

 

“H-Hey, like I’d want anything to do with a shota like you--!”

 

* * *

 

 

Shuichi couldn’t stop staring at Kokichi Ouma.

 

It was odd. He’d never felt any sort of interest in Ouma before hand. Even when he wasn’t doing anything, Ouma was still an enigma.

 

Shuichi knew full well that what he was feeling wasn’t any sort of romantic attraction to Ouma. He already has had a long-standing crush on the one and only Kaede Akamatsu, and that wasn’t going away anytime soon. Plus, he was straight. Always had been, always would be. ( _Probably._ )

 

If anything, he felt more of a kinship. A commonality. Despite all of his grandeur and false claims, Ouma still found himself unable to sleep last night. Even though he refused to admit it, when he had texted Shuichi he had left himself vulnerable by even revealing in the first place that he was still awake, despite Shuichi knowing full well that he was one of the early birds in their class, if the group chat activity was anything to go by. Ouma had trusted Shuichi.

 

Then again, he could be reading too much into it.

 

“Hey, Shuichi,” began Kaede. Immediately, Shuichi distrusted the smirk on her face and the lilt in her tone. That smirk was not meant to belong to Kaede. That smirk was fit more for the likes of Byakuya Togami or Nagito Komaeda; or maybe it belonged to Kirumi Tojo on the odd days that she felt smug and was desperately trying to hide it, but that was a rarity.

 

Gulping, Shuichi tore his eyes completely away from the bickering duo of Iruma and Ouma and gave his full attention to the woman of the hour. “Yes, Kaede?”

 

“Why are you staring at Iruma-san and Ouma-kun, hm? Got a crush?”

 

“Uh… no.”

 

“Aw dang, I’d thought I’d really had it!” she went silent for a moment, tapping her pouted lip thoughtfully, “Iruma-san really isn’t your taste, huh?”

 

 _Oh. So that’s who she thought I was staring at._ “... can’t say she is.”

 

“C’mon, just tell me already,” she leaned closer to him and propped her chin up between her two fists, a cheeky smile revealing dimples on the inside of her left cheek and a rosy tint dusting both of them. “Whose this secret crush? You can tell me, ya know? I won’t tell anyone!”

 

Shuichi smiled, then he didn’t. He really couldn’t tell her. She wasn’t exactly secretive in hiding her crush on the new kid, Rantaro Amami, and he knew that he’d be outright rejected if he let any sign of his crush slip.

 

“Shuichi?”

“Ah, right, well…” he forced a smile right back onto his face, gave his secret crush a rather uncharacteristic wink, and stood up. “Victory isn’t any fun without the race.”

 

“Ah, boo. As expected of a detective…” Kaede sat back in her chair and narrowed her eyes at him, as though he were doing something wrong that warranted suspicion. “... what are you doing?”

 

“Oh…” He really didn’t have an excuse. He just wanted to get away from the situation as fast as humanly possible. Having your crush try to guess your crush was beyond awkward already, and she was quickly narrowing down the list of suspects. It wouldn’t be long before she guessed herself, and he’d rather die before that happened. If all went according to plan, he probably would. “I have a project.”

 

“A project?”

 

“Yeah, I forgot to do it, so…” he nudged his shoulder towards the door, “can I go now?”

 

Kaede nodded, her eyes still narrowed. She didn’t believe him. Shuichi wasn’t the best liar, and whenever he told anything but the truth he started fidgeting and sweating, so he didn’t really blame her for her suspicion. He was always lying to her.

 

When he passed by Ouma’s lunch table, he felt the other boy staring at him. He didn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

The same routine played out that night. Kokichi Ouma sat wide awake in bed, staring up at an unmoving sky and counting the nonexistent constellations that existed on his bedroom ceiling. He could count every little bump of paint, and he felt pathetic and empty when he began to connect them all, marvelling at the great majesty that was his own personal faux night sky.

 

How boring.

 

Once again, his homework had been completely finished. Every book had been read. Every DVD had been watched. Every person was asleep, except…

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _hey. are you awake?

 

Kokichi’s mind was racing. His foot was tapping. His hands were sweating and clammy and gross, and no matter how many times he wiped them off on his pajama bottoms his pores still released more and more sweat. If Saihara could see him right now, there was no doubt in Kokichi’s mind that he would immediately cease contact with him and refuse to ever talk to him again.

 

 _Me:_ Awake as the dead.

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _well considering youre very obviously talking to me and alive, i’m gonna say that’s a lie.

 

 _Me:_ Nishishi~! You caught me!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _you realize you don’t have to type out your laugh every other text, right?

 _Me:_ Oh, am I annoying you, Saihara-chan?

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _when are you ever not annoying me?

 

Kokichi giggled, yes, _giggled._ He giggled like a fucking schoolgirl on crack, plastering his hand over his mouth on the odd chance that one of his neighboring classmates would hear him through the soundproof wall.

 

Saihara was _much_ more confident through text. Kokichi would never dare to call him boring, but he shot back with just as much feistiness to each of Kokichi’s jabs and insults, picking and picking away at Kokichi’s skin just as much as he did to others. He wondered how often other people saw that side of Saihara, or if it was just him, for him, _only._

 

He seldom ever talked to Saihara outside of his glass screen. He stared at him from afar mostly, and whenever Kokichi raised a ruckus in class Saihara would never dare take his eyes off of him, as though he were anticipating his next move. Every time Saihara would look at him, he felt happy and light and magical.

 

God, he sounded _so gay._

 

I mean, he is, but still! Like he’d ever tell Saihara that!

 

 _Me:_ You were the one that started texting me.

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _looks like you caught me in a lie

 

His heart soared.

 

 _Me:_ Saihara-chan! That’s my line! That’s copyright infringement!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _i look forward to seeing you in court

 

Kokichi folded his legs over his body, grinned, and squealed. He held his phone to his chest, rocking on his back as he thought over his response.

 

 _Me:_ Be prepared to lose! In my secret organization we have every profession imaginable there, including all of the top lawyers in the world! You’re no match~!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _oh really, what are these lawyers names? since i’m a detective and all i mightve heard of them :)

 

_HE SENT A SMILEY FACE!_

 

 _Me:_ I couldn’t tell you that! They’re in a secret evil criminal organization!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _uh huh. and what is this organization’s name?

 

 _Me:_ It’s seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeecreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!!!

 

Kokichi knew that his mood was going to go away soon. He knew that soon he wouldn’t be cursed to staying up all night because of his insomnia, and he knew that soon he wasn’t going to be able to text Saihara anymore for fear of letting too much slip.

 

Soon, he was going to get out of his euphoric state of mind and let go of his stupid one-day crush and sink back to the dreaded, horrible confines of reality. He was going to be wide awake every night staring up at a painted constellation on his bedroom ceiling, but instead of being forced to stare for hours upon hours as they shifted and morphed into something magical and wonderful while his heart raced and his eyes bulged, he was going to fall asleep with his eyes wide open, not seeing the lumps of paint on his bedroom ceiling and not knowing the great mystery of Shuichi Saihara.

 

For right now, he wasn’t going to think of that.

 

If he doesn’t think of it, maybe that dreaded day won’t come.

 

Kokichi Ouma lifted up his phone, read his text from Saihara, and smiled. The constellation above his head shifted, and he paid it no mind. When the stars reversed and shifted, maybe then he would give them their much-due attention.

 

He pressed send.

 


	2. me: are we friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi fucks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey guys! Fun fact: I just wrote this entire chapter tonight because I wanted to get it out before the 7-day mark. The outline took a long time to get done.
> 
> Thanks for all the support last chapter! I was positively baffled because I wasn't expecting such a great response, but hey, I'm not complaining!

Kokichi Ouma was smiling.

 

Yes, _smiling._ Not the kind of sadistic smirk that he would often shoot at passersbys to stop them from bothering him. Not the kind of smile that he wore on his face to hide his true emotions. His smile was real, genuine, and one-hundred and ten percent authentic. It felt weird to have such a pure smile gracing his features, but he found himself embracing it, staring down at his phone as he read over his last text sent to Saihara.

 

 _Me:_ Goodnight, Saihara-chan~!

 

“Yo, what’s with the smile? Did ya finally get laid?” asked Iruma, shoving fries into her greasy mouth and tempting a peek at Kokichi’s phone. Kokichi shut it off, stuck his tongue out at her, and put up his middle finger.

 

“Fuck off, Iruma. Don’t you have any other shitheads you can bother with your gross moaning? Kiiboy looks pretty jealous~!”

 

Iruma spluttered, “h-hey! Who’re you callin’ gross? I bet you don’t even wash after jacking it!”

 

“You’re annoying. Is that all you think about?”

 

Kokichi didn’t particularly like Iruma. She was brass, loud, and an absolute hellspawn. That being said, she was fun to mess with. It would take a good number of fingers to count how many times he had _almost_ been entertained by her presence. Not that he’d ever admit that. He sighed, stole a glance at his phone, and turned to her again. “Weeeellll, looks like that’s my cue! Gotta blast!”

 

Kokichi hopped up from his seat and grabbed his lunch tray, intent on heading right over to the trash bin and dumping it all right in. See, that was his _intention_ . He really didn’t expect to run into Rantaro Amami as soon as he’d turned around. And he _really_ didn’t purposely spill his entire lunch tray on him. Honest!

 

“Ah, look Amami-chan, you ruined my lunch.”

 

Amami sighed, grabbed a napkin from his shirt pocket, and started wiping down the front of his uniform. Up close, Kokichi could see the flecks of eyeliner and mascara in his eyelashes.

 

“And you ruined my uniform. Don’t we both suck?”

 

“Cock!” interjected Iruma from behind the two, giggling and snorting at her own ill-timed joke. Kokichi ignored her.

 

“Is that any way to talk to your supreme leader?”

 

“Supreme leader?”

 

“Yeppers! I’m actually controlling every little single action in your life from the shadows! You know the Illuminati? Yeah, that’s me!” Kokichi rocked on the balls of his feet and shifted, moving just an inch back from Amami, who was still wiping down the remnants of Kokichi’s milk from his shirt. “The proper response would be to bow. Don’t worry, I’ll forgive you this time!”

 

“Thanks.” Amami stole a glance at Kokichi and Iruma’s table, glanced back at Kokichi, and pointed just left to the chair Kokichi had just gotten up from. “Is that seat taken?”

 

“Yup!”

 

“Oh, really?” Despite Kokichi’s answer, Amami went ahead and sat right down at the table. He reached forward to grab a fistful of napkins from the center and continued to wipe himself down, placing the dirtied napkins down just next to him.

 

“Hey, I said that was taken!”

 

Amami shrugged, “that was a lie, right?” He gestured between the two, “you two are only ever sitting by yourselves.”

 

“W-What the fuck is that supposed to mean-”

 

“Woah, Amami-chan! You’re _super_ smart! I swear, you’re almost as smart as my cat!” Kokichi dumped his tray on the table right next to theirs, strode up to Amami, and sat down right next to him. “Hey, hey, are you a furry?”

 

“Ha, can’t say I am.”

 

“Ah, damn.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Shuichi, look!” Kaede nudged Shuichi with the butt of her palm. When Shuichi turned to look, she was pointing right at Rantaro Amami, a glow in her eyes and a question on her lips. “He’s sitting with Ouma-kun and Iruma-san. Do you think they’re friends?”

 

Shuichi shrugged and sighed, fiddling around with his spork and poking it into his hamburger. “I dunno. Maybe.” That was a lie. Shuichi had never once seen Ouma interacting with Amami, much less seen Amami chatting with Iruma. Ouma had never mentioned him in their text conversations, either. Granted he hadn’t mentioned Iruma, but given the little bits and pieces that he’s heard of their conversations he’s not sure he wants Ouma to talk to him about Iruma.

 

“Hm… this is important evidence, Shuichi! It could tell us a bit more about his personality!”

 

“Whoopie.”

 

“ _Shuichi!_ ” Kaede hit his shoulder. With a start, Shuichi turned to stare at her, rubbing his shoulder painfully. For such a kind person she packed quite the punch. “Are you even taking this seriously? This is my love life at stake!”

 

Kaede once again reaffirming her incessant crush on Amami struck him straight in the heart. With a hiss, he clenched his chest, turning away from Kaede to stare at a single spot in the table. If only he still wore his hat.

 

“Oh, are you thinking about your crush again? You can just tell me who it is! I’ll even help matchmake you two!”

 

“No, I really don’t think you would, Kaede.”

 

“C’mon, Shuichi! You know me better than that! I’d do anything for my friend!” Kaede twisted the knife a little deeper. If he had been in a different state of mind, he might’ve even been of the belief that Kaede actually knew about his crush on her and was purposefully friendzoning him. That being said, Kaede was nothing if not kind-hearted. Logically, he knew his paranoia was meaningless.

 

“Y-Yeah,” Shuichi’s voice was an octave higher than usual. With a cough, he said, “y-you can figure it out for yourself, Kaede.”

 

“Boo!”

 

* * *

 

That night, Shuichi found himself continuing his nightly routine: texting Kokichi Ouma.

 

 _Me:_ hey, you up?

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ I’m always up for you, Sai-ha-ra-chan~! <3

 

Shuichi felt a blush rise to his cheeks. _He’s bluffing_ , he reminded himself, _just ignore it._

 

 _Me:_ right. what are you doing

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Watching hardcore porn. What about you?

 

 _Me:_ nothing. texting you

 

Shuichi almost hit send. With a frown, he looked over his own text, dissecting each and every single one of the three words there. The last sentence sounded a bit flirty, didn’t it? Would Ouma take it the wrong way? They were both guys. There was nothing to take the wrong way, right?

 

Just when Shuichi was about to hit backspace and rewrite his entire text, his thumb pressed the send button. With a start, Shuichi frantically tapped his screen. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit--_

 

_*Sent*_

 

“Shit!”

 

Shuichi bit his bottom lip, bringing his bare knees up to his chest and rocking back and forth on his bum. This was _bad._ The text itself wasn’t horrible, but Ouma was known for blowing things out of proportion. For all he knew, tomorrow the entire school might be abuzz with the knowledge that Shuichi hit on _the_ Kokichi Ouma! His reputation would be ruined!

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Oh wow. Great deduction, Shulock Holmes.

 

Of course, his anxiety-ridden mind was playing tricks on him again. Of _course_ it was.

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Or are you just hiding what you’re _actually_ doing? C’mon, you can tell me the genre. I won’t bite ;-)

 

 _Me:_ what genre?

 

 _Me:_ also i hate that winky face. it looks weird

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ I’m hurt! To think that… you would really… *sniffle, sniffle*... insult my winky face... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! *sniffle, sniffle*

  
_Me:_ please no

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ waaaaaaaaaaaaaaHHAHAWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

 

 _Me:_ this was a mistake

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ And now you’re calling me a MISTAKE??? AJKWJFKJAWJO

 

 _Me:_ bye

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Wait no come back.

 

* * *

 

Kokichi was in class lobbing spitballs at the back of Shinguji’s head, wondering how long it would take the effeminate man to notice that he had about a dozen or so spit-filled pieces of paper tangled in his hair. Honestly, he was getting bored. Maybe he could practice his aim with the teacher instead… or Harukawa, but he wasn’t completely sure that he wanted to get strangled that particular day. Maybe tomorrow.

 

Amami leaned over to Kokichi. “Shouldn’t you be paying attention?”

 

Kokichi scoffed, “paying attention? No thanks. This is more fun.” For emphasis, he chewed up another spitball and shot it at Shinguji. No dice. The man still paid avid attention to the teacher, writing down each and every word that spilled out of the woman’s mouth. Just what he got for messing with him in history class.

 

“Don’t we have a unit test next week?”

 

“Yeah, and?”

 

“... alright then.” Amami sighed and leaned back in his chair. Despite his lecture, Kokichi didn’t see a single sentence written down on his page. He wasn’t even taking notes!

 

Kokichi growled, chewed up a spitball, and shot it at Amami. As though anticipating this reaction, Amami leaned forward at just that moment to look into his backpack, completely screwing up Kokichi’s aim and launching it instead at a random unsuspecting civilian.

 

It hit Maki Harukawa.

 

Shit.

 

* * *

 

“Did you really have to hit him, Maki?”

 

“He’s a brat, he got what was coming to him.”

 

“Yeah, but…” Kaede sighed, leaning her head on her palm and staring at Ouma’s table. Currently only Amami and Iruma were sat there, an open gap between them where Ouma would normally sit. Last Shuichi saw of Ouma, he had been nursing a black eye and running to the nurse’s office. He must still be there.

 

He fiddled with his phone.

 

Maybe he should text him?

 

“Hey bro, what’s up?” Kaito leaned forward, peering deep into Shuichi’s eyes. His normally confident demeanor had faded into something more soft, more genuine, and Shuichi felt as though Kaito’s palm was directly touching his heart. His heart beat softly.

 

Shuichi forced a smile onto his face, “nothing. I’m just a bit worried.”

 

“Worried?” Maki furrowed her eyebrows. “About Ouma? He’s like a cockroach, he’ll bounce back in no time.”

 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Under the table, Shuichi typed out a text, prayed that in his blinded state he had managed to type it out correctly, and clicked send.

 

 _Me:_ hey, ar ou oay?

 

The notification was instant. His friends jumped at the loud ping that suddenly erupted from underneath the table. With a timid grin, Shuichi lifted his phone into plain view and read Ouma’s response.

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Are *you* okay?

 

Before Shuichi could even think of a response, another message had been sent. Shuichi lowered his volume.

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Why do you care? Aren’t you friends with Maki-baby?

 

 _Me:_ yeah, but you’re my friend too

 

A few minutes passed. In the meantime, Shuichi _calmly_ tapped his phone. As the gap between the last message increased, he found his palms growing sweaty. He tapped his phone again in rhythms. One, two, three… one, two, three… no response.

 

“Shuichi? Are you okay?” Kaede had turned to him. She tilted her head just so, and Shuichi might’ve dared to call it cute if he didn’t detect the concern in her eyes.

 

“Yeah. I’m doing fine.” He couldn’t look at her. He caused her to feel concern for _him_.

 

He picked up his phone and typed out another message.

 

 _Me:_ are we friends?

 

Ouma never responded. A few minutes later, he came back into the cafeteria, sat down between Amami and Iruma, and looked at his phone. He didn’t reply to Shuichi.

 

* * *

 

 

Kokichi sat still in bed at three in the morning, swinging his feet in front of the opening under his bed, just asking for a monster to drag him under and eat him alive.

 

He stared at his text.

 

 _Me:_ Yes.

 

He could _not_ say yes. No way, no how. Absolutely not. That’d be _asking_ for rejection. Kokichi didn’t have a lack of self-preservation. He knew when to call it quits. His chances with Shuichi were slim to none. He knew that. Everyone knew that. Saihara was just being an idiot and expected that Kokichi would _want_ to be friends with him! Ha, as if!

 

… yeah, he knows when he’s lying.

 

 _Me:_ No.

 

No, no, _no_ , he couldn't say that either! That’d break poor Shuichi’s heart when all he wanted was a friend!

 

_Like he cares about that!_

 

His thumb hovered over the send button.

 

Yeah, no. Not gonna happen. He deleted the text.

 

 _Me:_ Maybe??

 

Wow, way to sound indecisive.

 

 _Me:_ I love you, have my babies <3

 

As if.

 

 _Me:_ Are you gay or no homo?

 

Blegh.

 

He couldn’t do this!

 

Without deleting the text, he flung his blackberry face down onto his pillow and lied down on his back, kicking his legs spastically and letting out a note that was much too high for a normal highschool boy to make.

 

He heard a ping. Kokichi’s heart skipped a beat.

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _uh

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _what

 

Oh, okay. Of course, that makes perfect sense. Of _course_ it’d be just his luck to accidentally send a text asking Saihara if he was gay. Good luck digging yourself out of this one, Kokichi.

 

 _Me:_ Jokes!

 

 _Me:_ Nishishi, I got you so good!

 

 _Me:_ It must suck to be so gullible Saihara-chan!

 

He was really laying it on thick. Kokichi’s heart pounded in tandem with the speed of his fingers. His brow sweated. He could feel his muscles clench and unclench, unsure of their own emotions. He hadn’t given Saihara much time to respond, but every second felt way too long. Kokichi gulped.

 

Saihara responded.

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _well to answer your question, no im not gay

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _are you?

 

_Yes._

 

 _Me:_ No!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _alright then

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _this is a weird conversation

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _im going to bed

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _hope your eye feels better. night

 

Kokichi touched his still-swollen eye. It was hot and firm and _painful._ He felt the same joy that he had felt when Saihara had first inquired about his eye: pure, complete joy.

 

Then he was centered back to reality, because Saihara had just confirmed what he had already known: there was no way in hell that the two of them could end up together. Saihara wasn’t even gay.

 

(... _he could be bi._ )

 

Kokichi chose not to delude himself.

 

He laid back in bed, flung his phone onto the far end of his bed, and pulled the covers over himself.

 

* * *

 

“... what about Maki?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Is she your secret crush?”

 

Kaede was holding a notepad, had a brown fedora planted firmly on her head, and had a pen tucked neatly behind her ear despite holding another pen in her palm, like she was some old-time detective from a spy movie. Right when he had gotten into his first class of the day, Kaede had stormed up to him all decked up, like she was on a secret mission. “Well, according to my research…” she flashed the notepad at Shuichi, barely gave him a couple seconds to read a couple names other than “Miu Iruma” and “Himiko Yumeno”, and then turned it around again, “there are only a couple girls left in this school that you could _possibly_ have a crush on. The one who you interact most with is Maki.”

 

“Yeah, but Kaito likes Maki.”

 

“I _know_ that, but I’m narrowing down my deductions, Shuichi!”

 

He gave her a deadpan look. “No. I don’t like Maki.”

 

She hummed, nodded, and crossed out a name on her notepad. She squinted and peered at the list of names, gasped, and looked frantically at Shuichi and another person in the classroom. Her head alternated between them so fast that Shuichi didn’t even have time to catch the other person she was looking at. “... _Chabashira-san?_ ”

 

“Chabashira’s a lesbian, Kaede!”

 

“I don’t know!”

 

Shuichi gave a deep, diaphragm expanding sigh, rubbed his forehead, and tried to ebb away the growing headache. “No. I don’t like Chabashira-san.”

 

“Alright, that’s another one--” Kaede stopped mid-crossing out, lips drawn into a soft o shape and her cheeks scrunched up. Her naturally rosy complexion was completely done away with, traded instead with a completely pale exterior. She looked at Shuichi, gulped, then looked back down at the notepad.

 

“W-What is it?” Internally, Shuichi tossed and screamed and flailed. _She knew! Kaede_ knew _that he liked her!_

 

“Uh… nothing, it’s just…” she closed her notepad, “something doesn’t add up. I’m gonna have to think over a few things.” Kaede took off her fedora and dropped it off on on Kirumi’s desk, who then proceeded to flatten it and stuff it into a plastic zip-lock bag. Kaede sat down at her desk.

 

_Shit on my dick._

 

* * *

 

“So Amami, do the curtains match the drapes?”

 

“My hair is green. What do you think?”

 

Kokichi idly watched Amami and Iruma’s conversation, chiming in every once in a while with a quip of his own. Amami had taken to sitting with the duo the past couple days; for what reasons, nobody knows, but it’s like he fit right in. Kokichi certainly wasn’t complaining, he was much better company than Iruma.

 

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Saihara entering the cafeteria alone, then proceed to sit at a lunch table completely and utterly alone, not even attempting to go up to gather a lunch tray. That was odd. Usually he sat with the three-muskaidiots.

 

Kokichi turned away with a huff. It was useless thinking about it. Not like it was _his_ problem.

 

(When nobody was looking, he stole another glance at Saihara. He was staring at his phone.)

 

“So you’re meaning to tell me ya don’t dye down there?”

 

“... is that normal?”

 

“Well you’re like super metro! That’s your whole thing!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“I could dye down there for you, you know…”

 

“Uh, no thanks…”

 

Kokichi glanced at his phone. Maybe Saihara was texting him? No, he wasn’t typing.

 

Ah, shoot. He needs to stop thinking about this! Saihara doesn’t like him!

 

(When Saihara picked up his phone and began typing, Kokichi’s heart skipped a beat. The back of his neck stuck up in anticipation and his legs shook. Finally!)

 

“What about you, Cockichi?” Iruma leaned towards him, pushing her breasts together and leaning just low enough where he got a full shot of her cleavage. Kokichi gagged in his mouth.

 

“Like I’d ever tell a dumb slut like you.”

 

“Ah! You said it!” Iruma gave such an ungodly moan that if Kokichi didn’t know any better he would’ve said the table shook.

 

Kokichi gave Amami a sly smile and leaned closer to him, “hey~! Amami-chan~! Wanna switch seats?”

 

“Sure.” Kokichi made to get up, only to fall short once he felt a sharp vibration on his lap. With a barely restrained squeal, he looked at Saihara’s latest text.

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _are you busy?

 

“The fuck? You’re texting Shithara?” In his excitement, Kokichi had failed to notice Iruma leaning over to snag a peek at his phone. For whatever reason, her words _angered_ him. She said it as though he should be ashamed of texting Saihara. What the hell did she know?

 

Kokichi fully jumped up from his seat, bouncing around Amami and sitting right where he formerly did. “Shut the fuck up, you bitch! Mind your own damn business!”

 

“Calm down, Ouma-kun, she was just asking a question.” Amami held his hands in between the two, a plactating kindness in the way he curved his eyes and a soothing nature to his silky voice. Kokichi immediately felt his mood dissipate, but like hell he’d show that.

 

“Yeah, whatever.” He typed out a response to Saihara, then turned to Iruma. “Don’t look at my personal business, got it?”

 

“W-Whatever… sorry.”

 

 _Me:_ No.

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _can you talk to me?

 

At that, Kokichi was confused. Saihara hadn’t really _asked_ him for permission to talk before, they just did. He stole another peek at Saihara. He was still staring at his phone, rocking his leg gently as he waited for Kokichi to respond. At his regular table, Akamatsu, Momota, and Harukawa were seated. Maybe they had a falling out?

 

 _Me:_ Oooh, asking for permission~! You know all of my weak points, Saihara-chan~!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _haha… yeah

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _im a jack of all trades

 

Kokichi Ouma smiled. From his peripheral, he saw Shuichi Saihara also smile.

 

 _Me:_ Oh, so you’re not just a detective! I knew you were lying about your talent!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _not lying, bending the truth

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _lying’s your thing

 

Kokichi tapped the screen. He wanted to be Saihara’s friend. He wanted to trust him. He wanted to be _vulnerable_ with him. Kokichi Ouma was _never_ vulnerable. Despite every rational thought in his head screaming for him not to dive too deep, not to fall too hard, Kokichi grinned and felt his heart go aflutter.

 

With shaking fingers, he sent a text.

 

 _Me:_ By the way, to your last question…

 

 _Me:_ … yes.

 

* * *

 

 _Kaede:_ hy… can we meet in the libry?

 

Shit. This was the moment. Shuichi was about to get rejected, melt into a puddle, and cry away his sorrows by locking himself in his room and eating tanks and tanks of ice cream and watching some random K-drama where love actually ends up working out for the protagonist.

 

 _Me:_ sure

 

 _Kaede:_ ill be there in 5 :)

 

… a smiley face?

 

Kaede was about to reject Shuichi and she sent him a _smiley face?_

 

Maybe she was just trying to reassure him. God, she’s probably known about his crush for months and--!

 

He tapped his leg. One, two, three… one, two, three…

 

He looked in his bathroom mirror, straightening his hair with the palm of his hand and trying (and failing) to flatten his ahoge. Maybe if he used some gel…

 

_What’s the point? I’m going to get rejected anyways._

 

He tugged on his pants, picked up his long forgotten hat, and hurried to the library.

 

* * *

 

When Shuichi arrived, Kaede was already there, seated in the far right of the library. A weird, disconcerting smile was on her face. She gestured to the empty seat just next to her and waved him over, a bundle of papers in her hands.

 

Uh.

 

Shuichi glided over to her, weaving between tables and the few Hope’s Peak students that actually studied. He sat down, Kaede’s eyes never leaving him and that same, creepy smile never dissipating. “... what’s up?”

 

Kaede placed the papers in her hands face down, tapping them with the tip of her nail. The smile never left her face.

 

“... Kaede?”

 

“... so, I’ve been thinking about it,” she begun, chewing her bottom lip between her teeth, “and it all makes sense.”

 

“... _what_ makes sense?”

 

“I _know_ you wear eyeliner, Shuichi!” Kaede turns to him, places a hand on his fist, and gazes deeply into his eyes. Shuichi feels a deep, red blush scorch his face. _She’s touching my hand! Maybe she isn’t going to reject me!_ As far-fetched as it was, Shuichi felt himself grin in anticipation. (Although he was still a bit confused about the eyeliner part…) “You’ve been dealing with this for so long… I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been…” she took her free hand, the one tapping the papers, and placed it over her chest. Her voice rang with unbridled sincerity and hope, like she was giving a motivational speech to a group of uninspired, tortured artists. “So you don’t have to hide anymore.”

 

Shuichi leaned forward and turned his hand around to fit into Kaede’s. When she didn’t let go, he internally screamed. “So… you accept me?”

 

“Of _course_ I do, Shuichi! I love you!”

 

 _Woah._ That was fast, but he could work with that!

 

“I mean, how could I ever reject you for your sexual orientation?”

 

Wait.

 

No.

 

“You know, I thought it didn’t make sense that you didn’t like pretty much _every_ girl in the school. Hell, the only one I didn’t ask you about was myself!” Shuichi died. “But then I began thinking, and I realized that you never specified the gender of your crush! I was just so blinded that I was only thinking in straight terms… I can’t imagine how uncomfortable that must’ve been for you…”

 

_Oh it was uncomfortable, but not for that reason._

 

“And then I realized… you’re a really feminine person, you know? You always understood my feelings, and you wear makeup, and I’ve never heard you talk about girls in a pervy way!” Something about all three of those statements didn’t sit well with Shuichi.

 

“W-Well I don’t think that’s a really good qualifier--”

 

“So you can be honest with me, Shuichi…” Kaede clenched his hand harder and stared right into Shuichi’s golden eyes. She took a deep breath, let it out, and said, “are you gay?”

 

If Shuichi were to look back on this exact moment one year from now, he would’ve done a lot of things differently. The thing is, a _lot_ of good came from Kaede’s misunderstanding. The other thing is, a lot, and he means a _lot_ , of bad came from it. If future Shuichi would use one word to describe the next couple months, it would be something along the lines of...

 

… clusterfuck.

 

Yes, it was a complete and utter _shitshow._

 

Except present Shuichi isn’t blessed with the wisdom and knowledge of future Shuichi. Present Shuichi is a stupid, hormonal teenager who is desperately trying to keep his crush on his best friend hidden. Present Shuichi wasn’t aware that the next couple months wouldn’t just be hell for him, but also for Kokichi, Kaede, Miu, Rantaro, and practically every other single goddamn person at Hope’s Peak Academy.

 

Shuichi opened his mouth, squeezed Kaede’s hand, and said, “yes. I’m gay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. In before the clusterfuck.
> 
> So as you can see the chapters are going to be getting progressively longer as the chapters go on. From my outline I'm guesstimating that chapter 6-7 are going to probably be around 15k-20k words while chapter 8 might go all the way up to 30k.
> 
> Anyways, please, please leave your thoughts on this chapter and your ideas for how exactly this clusterfuck will go down (lol, I really like that word for some reason)! Hugs and kisses <3 The next chapter shouldn't take too long.


	3. me: we cant talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DICE comes into the picture, Shuichi faces his inner broodings, and a questionable history between Maki and Kokichi begins to unravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so sorry this chapter took a bit longer than expected! I was actually finishing it up today and I added some scenes that weren't originally going to be in here. For example, DICE wasn't supposed to be here for a bit longer. Anyways, yeah, this chapter's longer than last but still not overly long (hehe, just wait until chapters 6-8, that shit is gonna be long as fuck). 
> 
> This chapter actually has a LOT of foreshadowing and a lot of plot related things and subplots unfolding, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, side note, I kept forgetting to mention this but this fic is basically a weird hybrid of the Japanese-American school systems. When I typed this up in my outline I realized I accidentally included things like Christmas breaks and spring breaks, but both are integral to the story so I decided to keep it. They're still in Japan though.
> 
> I also made a twitter specifically for my fanfiction accounts and anything to do with writing! Here you can also give me prompts that I'll more than likely fulfill in a week's time or so. Here's the link!:
> 
> https://twitter.com/M_BTree

_Me:_ Hey.

 

No response.

 

 _Me:_ Hey, Saihara-chan.

 

A minute passed…

 

Me: Saihara-chan~~~~! Pay attention to me!

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _were in the middle of class ouma stop. my phone keeps vibrating

 

 _Me:_ Vibrating, huh?

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _dear god

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _i think youve been spending too much time with iruma

 

 _Me:_ I think you’ve been spending too much time with your face.

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _yes. that is how it generally works

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _now stop texting me, people are gonna be suspicious. were literally the only two on our phones right now

 

 _Me:_ There’s no need to be ashamed of our love, Saihara-chan~! I’ll protect you…

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _yeah, yeah. now shush and pay attention

 

 _Me:_ Oh, by the way, before you go…

 

 _Saihara-chan~! <3: _yeah?

 

 _Me:_ The teacher is right in front of you.

 

* * *

 

“Damn, teach was pretty hard on you, huh?” Kaito laughed, a hearty chuckle shooting straight out of his sternum, but to Shuichi the reassurance was completely lost. He had never had his phone taken away, much less been chastised by an authority figure in front of _everyone_ where everyone was silently judging him and making fun of him and wondering why he was texting Ouma in the first place and

 

_Tap, tap, tap…_

 

_One, two, three._

 

His middle finger and his thigh reassured him more than any living being or inanimate object ever would. He knew that for a fact.

 

It wouldn’t be wholly appropriate to say that to Kaito, would it? For that matter, Kaede would probably take offense to it as well… he couldn’t imagine Maki caring, but the most stoic people tended to bottle up their emotions until one day where every regret and memory and heartache came to a breaking point and lashed out like a fierce hurricane on every unsuspecting individual in the nearest fifty meters. That was the whole basis of school shooters, right?

 

… on that note, Maki _is_ an assassin…

 

“Shuichi,” Kaede gently squeezed the pinky finger nearest her. “You’re doing it again.”

 

“Ah, right…”

 

Dismissing Kaito’s stunted lip and folded arms as just mindful curiosity, Shuichi laid his chin on his palm, slouched, and struck a faux relaxed pose. He probably looked ridiculous and out of place and odd. Despite himself, Shuichi stretched his lips and bared his teeth at Kaede and Kaito.

 

Kaede still held onto his pinky and Kaito still crossed his arms.

 

“Onto another note…” after a moment of silence and staring, Maki spoke up, twirling the straw in her soda and sipping tepidly at it, “who were you texting? I didn’t see anyone else on their phone and the teacher didn’t care to announce who it was.”

 

 _Oh._ So they _hadn’t_ seen Ouma on their phone. Given the liar’s nature, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was a master at inconspicuously texting. For all he knew, Ouma might’ve not even taken his phone out of his bag in the first place and relied on the fine threads and buttons to text for him… yeah, that might be stretching it a little.

 

“Um… my sister.” Shuichi didn’t have a sister. Kaede knew that. Goddamn, Ouma really _was_ rubbing off on him! … or he’s just always been this prone to lying. Despite his unassuming nature and looks, he had never been the most honest child, he just preferred to ebb on the side of caution and not even speak when a question proving his guilt was directed at him. Unfortunately, the older you got the more socially unacceptable that became. As a child they could’ve chalked it off to shyness or being scared of older people. As a teenage boy already far into puberty they would be more prone to calling him strange and rude.

 

Kaede squeezed his pinky again, but this time she didn’t let up. He really had been lying a lot lately. If Kaede ever found out the actual truth…

 

_She’d hate you._

 

Yeah, she’d hate him. She’d push him and call him gross and a pervert. She wouldn’t be so comfortable touching him and being close to him.

 

_So that’s why you’re lying._

 

_I have to lie._

 

“Your… sister?” Thankfully, Kaito and Maki were oblivious. With Kaede, he could trust her not to speak up. If more than just her knew then his lie would be for naught. “What, did something happen?”

 

“No, she’s just…” Shuichi swallowed the lump in his throat. Kaede was squeezing him awfully hard. From his peripheral, he saw the tight knots in her hand and the red tip of his finger. He didn’t dare look at her. “... sick. She’s sick.”

 

“Oh,” Kaito blinked, looked at Maki, then looked back at Shuichi, flashing his trademark life-saving grin and giving him a thumbs-up. “Tell her to get better for us, will you? She can’t be sick for too long or else we’ll all be worried!”

 

“R-Right…”

 

Eventually, Kaito carried on and continued eating his lunch like normal, oblivious to the tension that Shuichi’s lie had caused… or maybe he was well-aware and was just ignoring it…

 

Maki didn’t stop staring at him. Long after Kaede had let up a little on his hand and Kaito had finished his meal, Maki’s piercing red gaze cut straight through him, like an assassin’s dagger straight to the heart. She didn’t believe him. She had always been fairly perceptive as long as her vision wasn’t obscured. She probably saw straight through him. Knowing Maki, the entire time she might’ve known that he was texting Ouma and perhaps wanted him to admit it himself.

 

And then Kaede… when Shuichi dared a peek in her direction, she didn’t meet his eyes. She fully retracted her hand, stood up, and left, claiming to be headed to the restroom.

 

Shuichi didn’t stop her.

 

* * *

 

“So you’re coming back for Christmas break, aren’t cha boss?”

 

“You know it! We’re gonna terrorize the whole city!”

 

Kaoru, the second-in-command of DICE, grinned up at Kokichi through a virtual screen, the trademark checkerboard scarf that graced the covers of every newspaper wrapped snugly around his neck. His windswept hair draped itself finely over his right eye. Even though only one eye was visible to Kokichi, it twinkled with mirth and barely contained amusement: the look often sported by every active DICE member whenever they were graced with Kokichi’s presence. “They really miss you, ya know. Things haven’t been the same without your ugly mug around.”

 

“Please, I’m the looks of DICE no doubt.”

 

“I thought you were the brains?”

 

“ _And_ the brains, obviously! The looks and the brains!”

 

“ _And_ the leader? That seems unfair.”

 

“Well technically _you’re_ the leader right now, but… yes, I’m the leader as well! The leader, the brains, and the looks! I pack quite the punch!”

 

“Yeah, if only you could actually throw a punch,” Kaoru grinned stupidly at his own joke, and through his tablet screen he could see Kaoru’s unmatched desire to high-five himself. With a sigh, Kokichi turned his head, pretending to be fiddling with his bag on the ground, only rising up once he heard the tell-tale sound of skin-on-skin.

 

“I have you and Riku to rely on for that. If I die it’s all on you.”

 

“Please, like _you’d_ die. You’re a cockroach.”

 

Of course, Kaoru had no idea the turnouts of dark, lonely nights where Kokichi would feel massive bouts of depression spurred on by seemingly nothing. Kokichi wasn’t in that mindset right now, he hadn’t been since before he’d started talking to Saihara, but he felt the cold wash of dread spread over his body and through his bones.

 

_Soon…_

 

Kokichi didn’t have time to think about useless crap like that. He was happy. Right now, that was all that mattered.

 

“Speaking of which… is Harukawa coming back for break? Or does she have… ya know… _jobs?_ ” No further explanation was needed on Kaoru’s part.

 

With a quick glance to the side, Kokichi shrugged. “I dunno. I’m not friends with her. You know that.”

 

“Right.” Kaoru fidgeted. “If she does come back… what do we do? Ignore her?”

 

“Like always.”

 

“... like always.”

 

* * *

 

Immediately when Shuichi entered his first class, the first thing he noticed was that Amami and Kaede were sitting together, table-to-table, talking animatedly. Every now and then Kaede would let out a high-pitched giggle and a snort, which Amami would laugh off with a flick of his hand right afterwards. God, Amami was so much prettier than Shuichi… his eyelashes were dreamy, he had that whole punk-rock thing going on and was actually _working_ it, he was bedazzled in fine rings and jewelry, and his voice was so silky-smooth that bulls would be lulled to sleep by it.

 

Realistically, Shuichi knew that there wasn’t a single chance in _hell_ that he stood a chance against a guy like Amami. Really, the only thing he had been counting on was that he was a total douchebag or player like his looks might’ve implied, but of _course_ he had to have the perfect personality too! Because why not?

 

… yeah, he was jealous. Really, _incredibly_ jealous. Even if Kaede miraculously did get over her crush on him, Shuichi’s chances were little to nill. Kaede already thought he was gay. There’s no way she’d ever allow herself to fall for him, and even if Shuichi told her the truth she’d kick him to the curb for lying to her.

 

There really was no winning here.

 

With a lag in his step and three successive taps on his thigh, he made his way across the classroom. It was only after he sat that he noticed that Ouma was sat where Kaede normally would be, balancing books on his head and getting yelled at by Tenko Chabashira for stealing Yumeno’s hat.

 

Shuichi ignored him. Talking to him would probably elevate his mood (or sour it, depending on how annoying Ouma felt like being that particular day), but he couldn’t risk it. Kaede thought he was gay. She’d caught him staring at Ouma before (even if she did think it was Iruma). It wasn’t much, but given how quick Kaede was to jump to conclusions in retrospect to her relationships with others, he wouldn’t put it past her to already have Ouma at the top of her candidates’ list for his crushes.

 

Plus… even if he did want to just talk to Ouma, forgetting about Kaede, Ouma wasn’t exactly the most well-liked person in class. Granted, Shuichi wasn’t really one to care about popularity or any such things, and he really did like Ouma in ways that he couldn’t define, but…

 

Maki and Kaito popped into his head.

 

… those two hated him. For reasons unbeknownst to him, Maki and Kaito - Maki especially - hated him with a cold, fiery passion. He wouldn’t be surprised if he caught Maki strangling him one day.

 

They would look down on him for being friends with Ouma.

 

They would _hate_ him for being friends with Ouma.

 

_Everyone would hate him for being friends with Ouma!_

 

He didn’t want that. He wanted everything to stay the same. He wanted to hide his stupid crush, he wanted to chat with his same three friends everyday at lunch, and he wanted to text Ouma in the wee hours of the morning when no one was around to witness it and he was far too awake to sleep.

 

Routine is good.

 

Routine is safe.

 

If he doesn’t stray from that, nothing will ever go wrong for him. He’ll be happy. He’ll be okay. People will like his complacent nature and applaud him for that. Some would be like Kaito or Kaede and try to lift him up. Some would be like Maki and face him with cold indifference. And some would be like Ouma and try time and time again to get him to laugh, with varying results.

 

_But no one would hate him._

 

_Kaede wouldn’t hate him._

 

With a straight stare forward, Shuichi clenched his fists over the fabric of his jeans and waited, even as vivid, bright violet eyes burned straight into the back of his head.

 

* * *

 

“Amami-chan,” whined Kokichi as soon as he sat down at their table, kicking the boy lazily under the table as he gingerly unfolded his lunch. “You stole my seat today!”

 

“Well, I’m not the one who stole your seat.” Amami gave Kokichi a wide-eyed smirk and bit into his fish with a crunch. “That was all Akamatsu. Oh, but don’t blame her. I gave her the idea.”

 

“... why?”

 

“I wanted to talk to her.” He shrugged. At that, Iruma gave a little snort and opened her mouth to interject, but stopped as soon as Kokichi gave a sharp pinch to the bit of the thigh just under her skirt. Iruma keened under the attention.

 

“Oooooh, you wanted to _talk_ , huh?” Kokichi kept his hand in place on Iruma’s thigh, just daring her to speak up. “Do you have a little man-crush on Kaeidiot?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The sudden honesty made Kokichi completely let go of Iruma’s thigh, who then proceeded to gasp for air like he had been strangling her without anyone’s knowledge. “... where’d this come from?”

 

“We all have our secrets, right?” Amami shrugged, then shot Kokichi such an all-knowing look that his heart nearly stopped. Kokichi was a good actor. There’s no way that… “I mean, you have your crush.”

 

Holy fucking Jesus Kokichi was going to _kill_ someone, DICE’s non-killing policy be damned.

 

“Huh? Dick-twitch has a crush?” Iruma sat up, still rubbing her thigh. She peered over at Kokichi to look at him through his bangs. “... w-who is it?”

 

Kokichi slammed his lunch tray and shot out, “like that’s any of your fucking business you used, filthy slut!” He could feel the skin on his hands trembling and saw the shied away image of Iruma go periodically in and out of focus, like a camera shutter on a foggy night. _Goddammit. Just what I needed!_ “... you’re a real bully, you know that, Amami-chan?”

 

“... oh. Ouma-kun--”

 

“--but that’s just a lie! Nishishi~!” Kokichi blinked back his tears ( _god, he always had been a real crybaby_ ) and shot both Amami and Iruma a bright, brilliant smile, like he’d been playing them all along. Iruma looked away from him, fiddling with the ends of her hair. Amami stared for a moment, and Kokichi prayed to every deity that might or might not exist that Amami would choose a vow of silence; he _really_ didn’t want to be ousted for just how truly pathetic his crush really was. “Like I even have a crush! I’m _waaaaay_ too old for that now, Amami-chan~! Aren’t you the one always telling me to grow up?”

 

“... if you say so.” Amami smiled at the boy. It was so sincere and pretty that if Kokichi didn’t personally know Amami he might’ve barfed out of disgust. Really, he was lucky that he was infatuated with Saihara instead. If he had fallen for Amami, he would’ve died a little inside when Amami admitted his own feelings for Akamatsu.

 

For the rest of lunch, no sound was made except for gross chewing noises, until finally Iruma got up to dismiss herself, a still half-eaten fillet of fish left on her tray.

 

* * *

 

It was Saturday. There was only one week left until Christmas break. Granted the break wouldn’t be overly long, only a week, but Shuichi felt himself counting the days as it came closer. He would give anything to be away from this drama and the school for even a _day_. Maybe when he came back he’d finally have the balls to tell Kaede the truth.

 

… yeah, unlikely story.

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey~!

 

 _Me:_ how much does your thumb hurt after putting all those e’s?

 

After Ouma took just a bit too long to reply, Shuichi typed out another message.

 

 _Me:_ whats up?

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Welllllll~! I was thinking… do you wanna hang out?

 

 _Me:_ uh… where?

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ What kind of host would I be if I didn’t let my guest decide? You pick!

 

Shuichi chewed his lip.

 

Ouma was fun company, if annoying at times.

 

~~Numbers flew through his head.~~

 

… but his routine said otherwise. Shuichi didn’t talk to Ouma in person. Shuichi talked to Ouma through text. People wouldn’t like it if they saw the two of them talking to each other, so…

 

_I don’t want to be rude._

 

 _Me:_ … how about one of our dorm rooms?

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ But that’s so boring! I want to explore!

 

_Shit._

 

 _Me:_ um the back of the school is usually pretty empty

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ But then we wouldn’t be able to prank people! Who do you take me for, Saihara-chan?

 

 _Of course_ that was Ouma’s concern. Of _course_ it was! Did Ouma even know how difficult it was for him to talk to people in person, much less someone as out there as him? … probably not, actually.

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ If you don’t wanna hang out with me, you could’ve just said so, Saihara-chan! I’m not an idiot, ya know.

 

 _Me:_ no, thats not it

 

 _Me:_ its more like

 

 _Me:_ can we just stick to text? Like usual?

 

 _Me:_ we cant talk

 

 _Me:_ not without people assuming things, i mean

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ What would people even assume?

 

 _That we’re friends,_ Shuichi wanted to say, but he restrained himself. They _are_ friends. Ouma had even admitted that he saw Shuichi as a friend a couple of weeks ago! What was _wrong_ with him?

 

Shuichi wanted to see Ouma. He wanted to talk to Ouma. He wanted to identify all of his little quirks and tells that revealed his true nature, no matter how long it took. Everytime he thought of the little liar, he felt his heart rate pick up and his palms sweat in anticipation for whatever lie he told or extravagant tale he weaved next. _What if it’s different in person_ , he thought, _what if he realizes that I’m just boring old Shuichi?_

 

 _Me:_ i dont know

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Then don’t be ridiculous! No one would care! If you think they’re going to judge you for being so boring compared to lil ol’ me, don’t worry about it! It’s not your fault that I’m a genius liar that everyone wants a piece of.

 

 _I know_ , Shuichi thought, _I know, so stop saying it already!_

 

_i know i know i know i know i know i kno_

 

He hated this. Why did his thoughts contradict each other? Why did that urge to tap grow so strong? Why did he want to get to know Ouma, but then he was so scared of it at the same time?

 

He really was a terrible detective. He doesn’t deserve that title at all.

 

 _Me:_ im sorry

 

 _Me:_ ill talk to you later, alright?

 

 _Kokichi Ouma:_ Okay~! Sleep well, Saihara-chan!

 

It was ten in the morning. Despite himself, Shuichi barked out a dry, humorless chuckle, a crackle in it like he was a long-term chain smoker far older than he actually was.

 

 _Sorry, Ouma._ Shuichi leaned back to stare at the ceiling, tracing the lines in it as his heart rate settled and the room stopped spinning. _I’m really useless after all. I can’t even solve my own feelings._

 

_If you knew I was this pathetic, would you still text me? Would you still make me feel better with your stupid jokes and overexaggerated persona and your lies?_

 

_~~Would I be enough for you?~~ _

 

* * *

 

Kokichi Ouma stared at the ceiling.

 

_~~Am I not good enough for you?~~ _

 

* * *

 

Kaede plopped down into the chair next to Shuichi, her trademark notepad secured safely in her palm and a brown fedora planted firmly on her head.

 

“Uh…” he rubbed his chin, “... hi.”

 

“Hey!” she greeted back, just as chirpily. “Maki and Kaito have to stay after class, so we finally have some time to talk about your crush! We need to figure out our game plan. Break starts tomorrow, you know.”

 

“ _Our_ game plan?”

 

“Mhm! We’re gonna matchmake you with your _lover._ ”

 

“K-Kaede!”

 

“What?”

 

Shuichi sighed, rubbing the empty space between his two eyebrows in contemplation. Kaede was just too innocently oblivious to the effect her words would cause. “Don’t… say that too loud.”

 

“Sorry, sorry!” she laughed, waving her hand to dismiss his words. “Anyways… we should probably get to work narrowing it down, right? Is it…” she pointed down her list, “Kaito?”

 

“No, for the same reason as Maki. But besides that, we really don’t have to--”

 

“... Amami-kun? No, right?”

 

“What, no! But I’d really prefer it if you didn’t--!”

 

“Shinguji-kun, then, right? His hair is pretty silky...”

 

“Kaede!” snapped Shuichi. He immediately regretted raising his voice at Kaede, but once she put her notepad down and actually gave him the time of day, Shuichi mentally pat himself on the back. “Don’t go meddling around with my love life, please! I’d really rather… keep it a secret.”

 

“Shuichi…”

 

“ _Please._ ”

 

Kaede stared at him for a few moments, a crease in between her eyebrows and a pout set firmly on her face. After a moment, she bit back her need to matchmake and sighed, silently nodding. Shuichi didn’t notice it at the time, but when she agreed she never made direct eye contact with him. Only later would this fact occur to him, far after the whole disaster with Kokichi had already occurred.

 

“Oh, Saihara-kun, Akamatsu-san,” gallantly striding like a white knight walking up to his princess, Amami strode up to the both of them, waving lazily.

 

Kaede jumped, proceeding to then spin around and give Amami the widest grin he had ever seen on the girl; far wider than any she’d ever given him. Just that thought alone made his heart ache, to the point where he had to turn away from the duo, picking away at his salad while eavesdropping on the two’s conversation.

 

“Amami-kun! What are you doing here?”

Shuichi chimed in, “yeah, don’t you usually eat with Ouma-kun and Iruma-san?” His words had far more bite to him than intended. He sounded too bitter, too angry, for Shuichi to merely be inquiring a question from a fellow classmate. Hopefully Kaede just chalked it up to him being angry at their earlier conversation. Not that he was, but she didn’t need to know that.

 

“Uh, well… Ouma seemed a bit sick today and Iruma had said she was going to fix up Kiibo’s anatomy, whatever that means, so both of them are out for right now.”

 

Much like Kaede had made haste to greet Amami at the sound of his greeting, Shuichi spun around in his seat. “Ouma’s sick?”

 

Amami lifted his brow questionably, a little quirk of a smile on his lips that had Shuichi questioning what exactly he knew. “Yeah. I think he has food poisoning. He wasn’t sick yesterday, but when I went to his room after first period to check on him he was vomiting.”

 

_Vomiting?_

 

Shuichi fiddled with his phone.

 

“He should be good before he leaves for back home, though. It should be gone within the next day.”

 

Shuichi hummed. _Maybe I should go check on him? He’d probably appreciate the company… it’d be pretty dickish to just text, right?_

 

The thought scared Shuichi. Visiting Ouma, much less when he was in a vulnerable state, was a huge step. He had even told Ouma a week ago that he would’ve preferred them to stay friends through text, not through any sort of face-to-face communication… but he was still a friend. And friends helped each other out when they were feeling sick, right?

 

Shuichi nodded, stood, and started heading towards the first-year dormitories. He didn't hear Kaede's gasp. He definitely didn't hear Kaede frantically exchanging whispers with Amami. Moreover, he didn't even think twice about looking back, or else he might've seen that Kaede was about to make a terrible, horrible mistake.

 

* * *

 

 

When Kokichi Ouma opened the door after a series of doorbell rings, he expected to be greeted with the sight of Amami, or maybe even Iruma if she was feeling especially generous.

 

“H-Hey…”

 

Not once in his wildest imaginings did he expect Saihara to be standing in front of him, rubbing his dumb emo cut timidly and carrying a plastic bag securely in his fist, surely filled with goods like soup and cold water.

 

So like the dumbass Kokichi was, he immediately shut the door right in Saihara’s face.

 

Distantly, Kokichi heard Saihara’s sputter of outrage, just before he fully closed the door and let the sound-proofing mechanic all of their rooms were equipped with kick in.

 

Saihara rung the doorbell again.

 

Like nothing had happened, Kokichi opened the door, greeted Saihara with a bright, brilliant smile and said, “oh, Saihara-chan! I had no idea that was you!”

 

“Y-You _looked_ at me for like ten seconds and then proceeded to close the door on me! You totally knew that it was me!”

 

“Huh, oh really? Doesn’t ring a bell…”

 

“A-Are you _gaslighting_ me?”

 

“What’s a gaslight?”

“Oh my god…” Saihara ran a pale, bony hand over his face, clenching his forehead particularly hard as though he were trying to ebb off a headache. “Look, I brought you some food.” He stuck out his hand with the bag in it, gesturing for Kokichi to take it. “I probably shouldn’t of done it, but I snuck in a few Panta too. I see you drinking it all the time during class.”

 

Kokichi ignored the way his heart swooned when he heard that ( _he’s been paying attention to me!_ ), reminding himself that Saihara was very, inexplicably _not_ gay. “Oh, wowsies! You do care! And here I thought you were ashamed of being associated with me after you told me that we shouldn’t talk in public!” Saihara stiffened at that remark, lowering his hand just so. “But we’re in private now, so it’s all good, right?”

 

“... yeah…”

 

“So!” Kokichi spinned on his heel, marching further into his room and gesturing for Saihara to follow after him. He ignored the way his stomach lurched when he laid down on his bed. When Saihara sat down next to him, he promptly lifted his bare feet and set them on Saihara’s lap, ignoring Saihara’s sudden splutter and reddened face. “Open my Panta for me, peasant!”

 

Saihara grumbled, muttering something along the lines of “I knew it was a mistake to come here”, and fetched a grape Panta out of his bag, twisting the cap off and holding it out to Kokichi.

 

“Nuh-uh! Pour it in my mouth!”

 

“W-What?” Saihara gaped at him. Kokichi resisted the sudden, prevalent urge to giggle inanely and close Saihara’s mouth himself. “No way! You have food poisoning, you’re not paralyzed!”

 

“You’re the one giving me soda when I’m vomiting my guts out!”

 

Saihara paused, tapping his chin and contemplating as if Kokichi had a point. “... so you don’t want Panta, then?”

 

“No, I do. You just have to feed it to me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“No!”

 

“Saihara-chan, stop being so stubborn. It’s annoying.”

 

“ _I’m_ being annoying?” Saihara paused, rubbed his face, and set the Panta bottle a mere two inches away from Kokichi. “Look, if you wanna drink, do it yourself. I’m not your mom.”

 

Kokichi eyed the drink. “Thank god…” he muttered, snatching it up and chugging it like his life depended on it.

 

“O-Ouma! You’re going to vomit all over yourself if you do that!”

 

 _Not my mom, huh?_ Despite his protesting stomach and the sting in the back of his throat, Kokichi continued to chug, until the last droplets of the purple-colored soda dripped into his mouth.

 

When Kokichi looked at Saihara, he had the most downright disappointed face that it made Kokichi snort with laughter: the kind of laughter where your shoulders shake and your head throws back as you belt out the highest note imaginable. Yes, Kokichi was laughing, and Saihara’s increasingly pissed off expression wasn’t helping matters.

 

“Ouma…” he muttered darkly, “why’d you do that?”

“To see how you’d react!” Kokichi reached towards the bag, intent on grabbing another Panta, when Saihara gripped his wrist firmly and tossed him back to lay on his mattress.

 

“Just lay down, it isn’t good for you to be so active right now.”

 

“But laying down is so _boring…_ ”

 

“Vomiting everywhere you can think of is even less fun, so I suggest you just try to sleep.”

 

Kokichi murmured, “fine, fine…” he tossed his head into his pillow. Cracking one eye open, he said, “hey, Saihara-chan…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“... do you want to sleep with me?”

 

Kokichi took sheer delight in the explosion of color that graced Saihara’s face, resembling the northern lights in their sheer magnitude and creativity. “W-What? What do you mean _‘sleep with you’_? Like…”

 

“Nishishi~! That was just a lie, of course! … I wouldn’t ever want someone as ugly as Saihara cuddling up with me in bed.” _But that’s a lie_ , he added mentally.

 

Saihara’s face softened in understanding, as though Saihara had just had a sudden insight into Kokichi’s nature. The thought alone was enough to piss Kokichi off, but despite himself he couldn’t find himself actually _mad_ at Saihara. The detective was trying to figure him out still. Through his sheer determination and curiosity, Saihara was unravelling more parts of Kokichi than he wanted to admit. Not like he’d make it easy for him, though.

 

Kokichi murmured, “I’m sleepy,” feigning a yawn and closing his open eye once more. The pillow was soft and comforting, and Kokichi’s feet were still on Saihara’s lap. After awhile, when Saihara must’ve figured that Kokichi was asleep, Kokichi felt a gentle, soothing hand coasting through his hair and his tangles.

 

This time, even though he wasn’t tired, Kokichi really did fall asleep soundly for the first time in a long time.

 

* * *

 

The day Kokichi Ouma arrived back at his orphanage, standing right next to Maki Harukawa, he was still sick. The Panta he’d dranken hadn’t done much to soothe his stomach, and food poisoning did have the potential to stick around for a few days (affirmed by Kokichi after checking WebMD), so that’s probably all it was.

 

Nevertheless, he hardly wanted to appear weak in front of his subordinates, so he stuck a mint in his mouth to ward off the smell of vomit and put on a foundation just a touch darker than his sickly skin tone.

 

Kaoru opened the door, “boss!” Ignoring Harukawa just as they agreed to, the fellow Hope’s Peak student shuffled in besides Kaoru, heading straight up the stairs to where her former room was. Kokichi _might’ve_ felt bad for her if she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.

 

~~And that wasn’t a lie.~~

 

Kokichi trailed after Kaoru as the taller teen led him further into the house, past the rows of pictures and the vases and the pottery. The matron had always been fond of antiques, so Kokichi took special care not to bump into one accidentally and face her wrath.

 

After a while, they stepped into an open spot of the house, lined with couches and a vintage television set. Eight unique, checkerboard-scarf wearing individuals peered at him through clown masks. Even though the masks failed to show their identity, Kokichi could name each and every single one of his followers, and he could accurately tell a random passerby each expression that each wore under their faux clown masks.

 

Hanabi stood first, twin hair flowing as she strode over to Kokichi, looked him up and down, then threw her arms around him, swinging him side to side like a ragdoll that she had just bought. Kokichi pounded his fists on her back, begging for air, but Hanabi didn’t let up, smiling into his purple streaks and rubbing his back as she swung him.

 

Reo came up next, then Julika, then Hinata and Haru, then Asahi, until nearly every member of DICE was crowded around Kokichi Ouma, hugging the small leader and laughing as the dog pile began to cave in on itself, slowly succumbing them to the floor treatment, as it often went when DICE decided to partake in group hugs.

 

From right next to him, Kaoru patted his hair. “Welcome home, Leader.”

 

Nobody saw Maki Harukawa watching them from the top of the staircase, and no one saw her silently slink back to her room.

 

* * *

 

 _Kayayday:_ hy… oma.

 

 _Me:_ Uh… hi.

 

 _Kayayday:_ u like shuichi right?

 

 _Me:_ What? No!

 

Kokichi Ouma almost hit send to refute her statement, no matter how true it may be, until he saw Akamatsu’s next text.

 

 _Kayayday:_ he likes u too

 

**3 MONTHS, 2 DAYS LEFT**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY! This chapter had a lot more angst than originally anticipated, partly why I put that super cute bedroom scene in. Don't worry though, chapter 4 and chapter 5 (mostly chapter 5 let's be real) have a lot more fluff! Don't get your hopes up for chapter 6/chapter 7 cuz I have a countdown for a reason but YA KNOW! 
> 
> Also, yes, Kaede's a fucking idiot and Shuichi is a poor soul. Don't worry, it'll all straighten itself out soon. Lots of character development coming your way for literally every character in this mess.
> 
> Anyways, please give me a comment regarding your thoughts on the chapter! I feed off them! Also, give me your theories regarding the countdown ;) 
> 
> If it wasn't annoying enough here's my twitter again:  
> https://twitter.com/M_BTree
> 
> Hugs and kisses! <3


	4. me: Why can't we?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kokichi's world begins to fall apart, and Shuichi's world begins to build back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH. MY. GOD. This chapter became WAY longer than I anticipated and I didn't even put everything I wanted to in this chapter.
> 
> So, yeah... enjoy this lol.

Three hours before the clock struck midnight and the country of Japan entered into a new year, Kokichi Ouma sat under a highway overpass with nine clown-faced individuals strewn about him. A red spray paint can rested in his hand lazily, like his hand was cramping after just vandalizing the structure with a humongous cock. A couple of his other subordinates were still drawing graffiti - namely Hanabi and Julika. It looked like Hanabi was giving the tiny girl a lesson in just how large to make her profanity.

 

Kokichi heard the leaves and the grass rustle next to him. Without looking up, he said, “hey Kaoru.”

 

“Hey, boss.”

 

“... are you already done? We’re still here for a few more hours, ya know.”

 

“That’s hypocritical.” Kokichi heard Kaoru chuckle, then saw a clown mask, reminiscent of Kokichi’s own, drop on the ground next to Kaoru in his peripheral.

 

“Hey! You know the rules, you can’t take the mask off on a heist!”

 

“Lighten up, no one can see us anyways, and no one’s using this road until morning.”

 

“It’s the principle!”

 

“Uh-huh.” Still, Kaoru made no move to put the mask back on. It laid right next to Kokichi’s blackened cape and hat, plump red lips mocking him from where they sat. Well, technically speaking Kokichi wasn’t really supposed to take off his leader get-up, but he made the rules! It didn’t quite matter if _he_ obeyed him.

 

With that justification in mind, he laid back on the ground, dirt getting all over his pristine white clothes and swiftly entering the process of creating a future stain. _Oh well. Kirumi can just clean it when I get back._

 

Kaoru laid next to him.

 

“That dick’s a bit of a letdown, don’t ya think?” He poked his finger straight above his head, gesturing towards the red, veined penis Kokichi had very _maturely_ chosen to bless the concrete with. (It was art! Really!) “It doesn’t even have cum splatters!”

 

“Not every dick has to be ejaculating Kaoru, god!” Despite his words, Kokichi was grinning and stared up at the highway above him, listening to the peaceful, almost soothing sound of tires turning and engines humming. Without realizing it, his eyes had closed. “Stop thinking with your dick!”

 

“Well, every dick I’ve ever seen has been ejaculating. Wink.”

 

“You cum when you pee? Wow, I feel sorry for the people next to you at the urinal.”

 

“It’s pretty uncomfy at first but then they warm up to it.”

 

“Running away doesn’t equal them warming up to it. It means that they’re freaked out because you just spontaneously busted your load without even having a boner.”

 

“Jokes on you, I always have a boner.”

 

After that, Kokichi purposely opted for silence, silently snickering at the way Kaoru fidgeted after his own statement.

 

“Uh…”

 

No response.

 

“A-Anyways…” Kaoru shifted again, and Kokichi listened keenly to his movements, registering the sharp jiggle of a spray bottle and the rustling of clothes. A nervous habit. “What’s up with you, boss? You seemed kinda out of it today.”

 

Kokichi hummed, “do I? Oh, you would know, right, Kaoru?” Kokichi glanced to his left, finding Kaoru looking straight ahead of him, now sitting up, not daring to look Kokichi in the eye -- like Kokichi would burn him if they made eye contact. “It’s dangerous to assume things, ya know.”

 

“Yeah, but…” Finally, Kaoru looked at him, staring straight at him through optimal lenses, right into the golden streak marring his right eye and the simple cross shielding his left. “You’re not dangerous.”

Kokichi really didn’t want to build walls, especially not around his only family. Just the thought of it made him squirm uncomfortably, as if he had just been told he would have to be strapped down while a gross, hairy tarantula crawled all over him and nestled deep into his skin.

 

At school, it was a different story. He could do whatever the hell he wanted when he wanted.

 

And so Kokichi let down his walls, untensed his shoulders, and lowered his mask so that it would cover some of his neck but not his eyes. He was being vulnerable. He was being trustworthy. People needed a leader they could trust, right? That’s what he had always thought.

 

The truth slipped from his mouth, and the compulsive need to lie and protect his own skin washed away with it. He felt a relieving calm spread through him, circulating through his bloodstream and pumping his heart for him, giving his actual blood a much needed break from all the effort it must go through to keep someone like him alive. “I’ve just been thinking about stuff.”

 

Kaoru’s eyebrows drooped and his face slacked just barely. It was hard to decipher through the shadows of the night, but he could’ve sworn that Kaoru was biting his lip. “What about?”

 

 _Everything._ Saihara, for one. Honestly, Kokichi almost wished that Akamatsu had kept her pretty little mouth shut. He already had enough shit to deal with on the daily, he wasn’t near ready for an actual, full-blown relationship; he hadn’t imagined himself ever going on dates, or kissing, or snuggling, or actually having someone _like_ him, his arrogant persona and his lies be damned. Kokichi was perfectly content lusting over Saihara from afar, thank you very much.

 

Then again… Kokichi liked him. He liked him a _lot._ Sure, Saihara wore far too much eyeliner and his hair looked so straightened that he wouldn’t be surprised if Saihara turned the flat iron onto the highest setting and pressed it down onto his hair five minutes too long every morning, but he was _amazing._ He was caring, and funny, and had just the right amount of sass and sarcasm to deal with Kokichi’s dumb shenanigans and proposals on the daily. He had never seen him act as confident in person as he had over text, either. In its’ own special, deluded way, Kokichi couldn’t help but think that Saihara only acted that way with _him._ He certainly couldn’t imagine him being that witty with Akamatsu, even if they were best friends.

 

At first, Kokichi had almost had a heart attack at the news that Saihara liked him. He had almost thrown his phone at the wall right then and there, screeching for joy and rocking on the balls of his heel whilst dancing to a nonexistent tune in his head, envisioning himself dancing with Saihara to a very _real_ tune later on, maybe at a school dance or something. Then he had wiped his mind clean of that image, marking it as unlikely and unsavory. Absolutely preposterous. Absolutely stupid. Absolutely, despicably, totally a complete and utter _lie!_

 

… then he thought about it. What reason would Akamatsu have to lie? She seemed nice enough, and she was far too ignorant to knowingly ruin any sort of romantic chances that Kokichi had with Saihara by providing him with false information. Kokichi could’ve misjudged her, but he _never_ misjudged people.

 

( _A certain black-haired, red-eyed orphan came to mind._ )

 

He rarely misjudged people. The last instance had been years ago, anyhow. He was much smarter now. Much less naive. No one could completely fool him.

 

“... it’s not about DICE, is it?”

 

“... what about DICE?”

 

“Well…” Kaoru scratched the back of his neck, breaking eye contact and staring off into the distance where Reo and Haru sat, idly chatting and gathering dirt. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I figured you’d take it the wrong way. I should’ve guessed you would’ve figured it out.”

 

… almost no one could completely fool Kokichi Ouma. Until that exact moment, he would’ve sworn on his life that he could see through any ruse, and typically he could. Maybe in the past week, or at that, the past month, he had been too obsessed with thoughts of his ill-fated crush to pay attention to the members of DICE’s personal feelings. Then again Kaoru was a good liar, too. He might’ve been better than Kokichi, if he were to be completely honest. Maybe Kokichi hadn’t overlooked a single thing, maybe he had been just as astute and perceptive as ever. Maybe his own family just had been lying straight to his face.

 

“DICE… it’s just… we don’t want to be doing this forever, you know? A few of us are third-years now… we have entrance exams to worry about. The few of us with family left don’t want to be like them, and the rest of us want to prove the statistics wrong. It’s been fun, and we really love you and we’ll still be close, but…”

 

Kaoru took a deep breath, stared into Kokichi’s eyes, and said “we don’t want to be DICE anymore.”

 

Kokichi’s world crashed. Then again, maybe it had never been moving to begin with.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi Saihara sat in front of a muted television in a darkened living room, feet propped up and crossed on his uncle’s hardwood coffee table and a case file opened flat on his thighs. He sipped on a cup of black coffee and read over the hardly visible lines, squinting through the darkness to make out his own smudged notes and recalling theories on the matter regarding the murder victim.

 

_From the looks of it, it’s most definitely a staged suicide. The so-called ‘hanging’ would’ve left different marks than the ones scattered on the victim’s neck. The autopsy report labelled the wounds as clear strangulation markings… if only it wasn’t a locked room case… maybe it’s a family member, they would’ve easily been able to…_

 

He stole a look at the clock. Two minutes to midnight.

 

Maybe he should text his friends as soon as it turned midnight. That seemed like a nice thing to do.

 

He readied the texts to each of his friends, saving them to drafts while waiting for the final minute to pass.

 

Kaede (that’s a given, no matter how squirmy the thought of him not getting a response made him feel). Kaito (another given). Maki (even though he had the suspicion that they were more mutual friends of Kaito than _actual_ friends)... and Ouma.

 

His finger hovered over his name.

 

_That was alright, right?_

 

Despite the sudden flutter at the notion and the nausea creeping up his throat, Shuichi typed out a message and saved it to drafts.

 

He watched the muted boxed TV screen, counting the seconds in time with the movement of the announcer’s lips as they fretted about the coming of the new year.

 

_Ten…_

 

His heart pounded.

 

_Nine…_

 

His hands shook.

 

_Eight…_

 

Despite the prevalent anxiety resting within him…

 

_Seven…_

 

… despite how much the past few weeks had sucked complete ass…

 

_Six…_

 

Shuichi smiled.

 

_Five…_

 

He smiled because of his friends.

 

_Four…_

 

He smiled because of Kaede.

 

_Three…_

 

He smiled because of his uncle, generous enough to lend him his apartment to reside in, even though he was out of town on a case.

 

_Two…_

 

He smiled because he really felt like this new year might just work out alright.

 

_One…_

 

And he wondered if he would get a New Year’s kiss next year. He envisioned pinkish eyes, blonde hair, and…

 

_Happy New Year!_

 

… the girl shifted into a familiar prankster.

 

On instinct, Shuichi yelped and tossed his phone far away from him to the other end of the couch, just barely an inch away from dropping unceremoniously onto the carpet.

 

Internally, Shuichi screamed. _That_ was weird. That was _beyond_ weird. That was the weirdest fucking thought to ever pop into his head, and he had had a _lot_ of weird intrusive thoughts. Maybe it was just because he was getting closer to him. He hadn’t really had deep conversations with him, other than the odd couple times Shuichi would complain about their mutual insomnia and explained his weird living situation. On that note, Ouma had told him hardly _anything_ about himself, all he knew was that his organization’s name was DICE! … if that was even the truth.

 

He valued knowing a partner. He valued diving into the depths of their mind after knowing it inside out; he desired companionship from his closest friends, not a liar who he had only started talking to a bit over a month ago.

 

Most importantly of all…

 

… Ouma was a dude!

 

Shuichi was straight. He was certain of that fact. He had never felt attraction towards a man before, and he doubted he ever would. Granted he wasn’t exactly the most promiscuous of people, and even with Kaede he didn’t particularly like to fantasize about having intimate encounters, but he had the romantic attraction and that was all that mattered! Plus, it’s not like he was completely unattracted to Kaede, he still valued her figure enough, and the thought of intimacy didn’t completely deter him…

 

Ugh, this was frustrating. It was just a stupid intrusive thought. Why was he obsessing over it?

 

His phone began to buzz. When he crawled over and sneaked a peek at it, he saw a familiar name lighting up his homescreen.

 

_Kaede._

 

Well, fuck. He completely forgot to send the messages. He’ll do it while talking, he supposed.

 

“ _Heeeey, Shuichi~! Happy New Year’s!_ ” Even over the phone, Shuichi could detect the slightest bit of a slur to her voice, like she had been consuming alcohol. He presumed that it’d been given to her by her parents or some other relative. It was customary to give your children a glass of champagne on New Year’s, or so he’d heard. In the background, he heard the bustling chatter and movement of a crowded room and the faint blast of fireworks.

 

“Hey. Happy New Year’s!”

 

“Yup! New Year’s! Wow!”

 

Shuichi clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling the little snort that came out of his nose. She probably wouldn’t care if he laughed, but he’d presume it’d be bad etiquette to laugh at a person directly to their face… or their ear. Even if that person was completely plastered.

 

“You having a good time?”

 

“Oooh, the _best!_ My dad gave me an extra glass of champagne! It tasted like crap but it feels great~!” Kaede’s voice lowered to a whisper, like she was telling Shuichi a secret that mustn't be told to anyone else, “don’t tell my mom though!”

 

“Kaede, I don’t know your mom.”

“I _know_ , but if you knew her you’d wish that you knew her!” … that sentence didn’t seem right to Shuichi, but he let it pass. “She’s pretty awesome! She taught me how to play the piano, you know. I mean, she’s super strict, but I love her a _lot!_ ” Despite himself, Shuichi let a small smile grace his features, marvelling at the cheerfulness in the girl’s voice and the constant kindness she bestowed upon others, even in her drunken state. “Well, what’re _you_ doing, Shuichi?”

“Uh…” he glanced down at his lab, polaroid pictures of a dead girl’s neck and body paper clipped to the top of his folder. Somehow he got the notion that Kaede wouldn’t be the most pleased to hear about his current preoccupations. “I’m… watching the New Year’s special.” His gaze locked onto the duo of overly cherry announcers on screen, flashes of Japanese text displayed across the television so rapidly that Shuichi barely had time to read most of them.

 

It wasn’t a _complete_ lie.

 

Kaede hummed non committedly. “Where’s your uncle? He didn’t come back for New Year’s?”

 

“Ah… no. The case he’s working on is pretty tough. He couldn’t get any time off.”

 

“Oh… that sucks. You know, you don’t live too far away from me, Shuichi. You could always come to my house. My family throws pretty awesome parties. I even perform at them sometimes! You haven’t heard me play for a while, right~? I made a new piece!”

 

The thought of actually meeting Kaede’s family gave him such a burst of random anxiety that he actually debated hanging up the phone and later claiming that the call shorted out. “U-Uh… I can’t, yeah, I can’t, I can’t…”

 

“Alright…” her voice’s tone suddenly took on a less drunken note, like she had begun to sober up already, “... you alright, Shuichi? No need to repeat it three times, haha… I understand...” although she laughed, Shuichi could hear the underlying concern clear as day. It scared the crap out of him.

 

_Why had he repeated it? It just hadn’t felt right, so he…_

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” he glanced back at the television. “It looks pretty dark out… it’s dangerous to go out so late.”

 

Kaede was silent for a moment. “... alright~!” and like that, she was back to her drunken roots, a slur to her tone like before. Shuichi began to wonder if he had imagined the brief lapse in sobriety or if she had actually forced herself to sound fully aware. It didn’t sound too out of reach for Kaede. “Well, I was actually thinking about this… we go back to school on the second, well, tomorrow I guess, and I was thinking… in about two, three weeks, do you wanna go on a ski trip?” she giggled, “it’ll be fuuuunnn~!”

 

“A ski trip? With who…?”

“Well, Kaito, Maki…” somehow he couldn’t imagine Maki skiing, but first time for everything he supposed, “and a few other people I invited!”

 

“Do I know them?”

 

“I dunno Shuichi, _do you?_ ” She then proceeded to giggle inanely to herself, like she was in on a little inside joke that Shuichi had no clue about.

 

“... uh… that doesn’t really put me at a peace of mind…”

 

“Don’t you worry~! It’ll all be fine…”

“Uh… Kaede? Are you okay?”

 

“Better than ever, really!”

 

* * *

 

Kokichi lied in bed, staring at the beige, dulled ceiling overhead. The clock had struck midnight just under three hours ago. Around a half past two, DICE had unanimously decided to venture back to the orphanage after just enough booze had been passed around. None of them had drunk too much, and the orphanage was fairly close to the highway, so it’s not like they had a difficult time returning home and slipping into bed unnoticed.

 

Still…

 

_“You’re a great leader, Kokichi. With your talent, you could easily become a politician or a world leader. Don’t throw that away on us for the rest of your life.”_

 

Kaoru had called him Kokichi. Kaoru had never called him Kokichi. It was always boss, or sometimes he’d just call him leader, but he had called him by his _name._ It was personal and intimate, and far, far too serious for the lovable, if sometimes idiotic, Kaoru. He was his right-hand man, his second-in-command, the de facto leader of DICE when Kokichi was locked up in a prestigious boarding school with minimal communications to the group other than a weekly video call.

 

 _That_ was it! Of course they’d want to move on and leave, they must’ve thought that he didn’t care about them anymore! He was so _stupid_ … as much as he ripped on Momota for his idiocy, he was really the stupid one of the two, huh?

 

_“Reo and Hinata have already been accepted into two of the top-tier universities in the country, you know. Seeing you become successful really motivated them, I think.”_

 

He really was… stupid…

 

_“And then Hanabi decided she wanted to be an actress! She’s not the best, I’ll be honest, but she’s a pretty quick learner. She’s only been in drama for a couple of months and she’s already joined two plays.”_

 

Kaoru kept saying that like he should be happy for them. Logically, he knew that he _should_ be happy for them. He _was_ happy for them. Really! No lies! He was being… completely honest…

 

His eyes burned.

 

This fucking sucked.

 

Kokichi’s whole fucking life sucked.

 

_“You motivate people!”_

 

_I don’t care about those people._

 

_“We want to follow in your footsteps, Leader!”_

 

Hanabi had said that.

 

_“We can’t stay in this forever… but we’ll always be your followers. To the ends of the earth.”_

 

They wouldn't ever stop loving him. They wouldn’t ever give up on him. Until the day he died, every single member of DICE would always have his back, would always support him, would always be the first to call him if something went south.

 

Despite that…

 

… despite how happy he felt…

 

… he felt like the absolute worst leader in the world. He felt like all the energy had been sapped out of him, drained and empty and seeping. He couldn’t sleep. His mouth was dry and his throat was heavy, like it had a thick, tight knot in it.

 

_I don’t want to be a politician…_

 

Kokichi wanted to die.

 

_All I’ve ever wanted…_

 

For the first time in a long ass time, he allowed tears to fall.

 

_… was to be your leader._

 

* * *

 

On the second of January, Kokichi Ouma arrived at Hope’s Peak Academy for the second time, and this time he wasn’t leaving.

 

* * *

 

“Shuichi!” Immediately when Shuichi arrived at the campus, a tote of luggage pulled behind him and his current case tucked firmly between his upper arm and his torso, he heard the unmistakable voice of Kaito Momota calling to him. When he turned to yell back, Kaito had already appeared in front of him, a duffel bag strapped securely over his shoulder and donning clothes that looked like he had already entered the first stages of senioritis despite only being a first-year.

 

“... Kaito, why are you wearing slippers? We’re outside.” Shuichi gave him a quick once-over. He was wearing galaxy-print slippers that looked anything but appropriate for walking around outside with, no matter the weather, and a matching galaxy-printed jacket to boot, draped over his one shoulder like a cape with his arm stuck through the other sleeve.

 

“Huh?” He looked down at his outfit, smiled, and spun around like a model showing off her newest outfit. “Oh, you like it? My grandparents got it for me!”

 

“It’s… interesting.”

 

“Ha, you think so? It looks awesome, right?” He touched the inside of his jacket, where different galaxies and constellations lied. “I don’t even know where they find this stuff! You think they know what Amazon is?”

 

Shuichi didn’t know whether Kaito was joking or actually asking a genuine question. He chose to believe the former.

 

“Anyways, how was your break, bro? Do anything special?”

 

Once again, Shuichi’s mind trailed to the murder he was investigating. Like before, he doubted that it was a good idea to bring that up to Kaito. “... you know, same old.”

 

“Oh, well I…” Kaito went onto a long-winded discussion about travelling with his grandparents to an actual space station, apparently where his grandparents had awarded the gifts. Shuichi listened, attention drifting slightly at parts yet still apt and at the ready to respond to promptings properly.

 

A few students drifted by him. Kyoko Kirigiri, the other ultimate detective, drifted by him with ease, not sparing him a second glance. He noticed Tojo and Yonaga and Chabashira enter the grounds as well. He wasn’t particularly close to any of them, so he didn’t really expect any greetings, but he took special notice of the peculiar glare Chabashira sent his and Kaito’s way, muttering something under her breath that he couldn’t quite make out.

 

“... I even got to go on a test drive! We didn’t go to space, so that’s a bummer, but it was _awesome!_ ”

 

“That’s great. I’m glad you had fun.” Shuichi smiled at his friend. He noticed a girl with long twintails coming their way. _Oh. Looks like Maki arrived._

 

Apparently Kaito had noticed his sudden shift of attention, because he started calling the girl’s name -- or nickname, he supposed -- just a moment later. “Harumaki! Over here!” Despite the assassin’s apparent disinterest, Shuichi noticed how subtly Maki increased her speed, like she was actually happy to see them -- (or _Kaito_ , he guessed).

 

Just as Maki had caught up to the two of them and was enveloped by Kaito in a hug, Shuichi noticed a sudden blob of purple walking up the sidewalk, from the same exact direction Maki had come from.

 

When Ouma passed by him, the shorter boy spared him just a glance, then he proceeded to walk inside the school grounds with such a cold indifference that it made Shuichi squirm in his shoes. _What happened to him?_

 

Shuichi still remembered the last text he sent him.

 

 ** _Me:_** happy new years!

 

… he never responded.

 

In his pocket, he clenched a fist tightly around his smartphone, feeling as though the electronic might crack under the strain. Granted he wasn’t nearly that strong, but it made him feel powerful where all else failed.

 

Ouma stopped walking, turned once more to stare at Shuichi, and gave him such a comely, beautiful grin that Shuichi’s heart nearly skipped a beat. _Nearly._ Heart palpitations. Shuichi had drank a bit too much coffee that morning; he had to wake up early for the trip back to the school.

 

Ouma turned back and marched onwards towards the school, arms thrown behind his head and gait reeking of arrogance and egomania. It was only then, as the bands on his arms started waving to the tune of the wind, that Shuichi noticed his abnormal outfit -- apparently everyone had decided today was the day to dress in their best guilty pleasure garb. Even Shuichi was dressed differently (for whatever reason he had decided to wear his old, ugly striped middle school uniform), and Maki was wearing an edgy, black and red sailor girl uniform.

 

“I-Is Ouma wearing a _straitjacket?_ ” Kaito had followed his line of vision and was gaping at the shorter male, as if he himself wasn’t wearing an otherwise ridiculous outfit.

 

Maki shrugged. “It suits him.”

 

Shuichi chose to ignore that comment. “We should head inside,” he commented. The trio had been idly standing in the cold, chatting nonsensically about this and that while the other students passed them. Shuichi had a tendency to get sick far too quickly for his own liking, and even with the thick threads of his jacket he still felt cold. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how Maki felt… then again, she had gone through some harsh training to become the ultimate assassin.

 

As the three continued their trek towards the campus grounds, Kaede caught up to them and their first day back at Hope’s Peak Academy began.

 

* * *

 

Kokichi Ouma was in a pissy mood. When he had smiled at Shuichi, just genuine enough to reveal his true intent, he had still been in a pissy mood. When Miu Iruma sat next to him in the assembly hall, dear lord he was about ready to _scream._

 

“Hey, dick-for-cash!” She sat down next to him with a thump. “How was your break? Get laid?”

 

“I got a hell of a lot more action than you did…” he paused, and after a sick moment of contemplation, added “... slut.”

 

He ignored Iruma’s needy whine. Then despite every one of his best interests, he tempted the question: “what about you, huh? Did you stay just as much of a slutty virgin as ever?” Really he was asking her how her break was, and he got the feeling that she knew that, but he added just as much flair to it as any conversation with her entailed. Anything to take his mind off of the shitty turn of events in his life. Literally _anything._ Heaven forbid Iruma had actually managed to have sex, because he would force himself to listen to her for once, even though it would inevitably only serve to worsen his mood.

 

“Oh, you’re actually interested in what I have to say?” Iruma boasted an arrogant, know-it-all tone to her voice. Kokichi immediately regretted his decision. “Well, I made a _great_ new toy, ya know… I think you’d _really_ like it, it’s big, and thick, and _really_ durable.” Yep. Kokichi was regretting his decision.

 

“I’m not trying out your dildo.”

“I-I’m not talking about a dildo!”

 

“Surrrre, Iruma-chan~.”

 

At that moment, Kokichi saw Saihara’s group enter the room. He forced himself to pay attention to Iruma.

 

“W-Watch what you’re saying! You’re talking to the greatest inventor to ever bless your shitty presence!”

 

“You’re the only inventor I know, dumbass. God, can’t you use your brain for a second? Oh, sorry, I forgot the only thing you’re good for is sucking dick! My bad~!”

 

“Yeah right, you’re just jealous that you’re not as beautiful and intelligent and fuckin’ amazing as me, ya goddamn twink!” Iruma huffed and crossed her arms and legs. Her bosom got pushed up just so from the position of her arms, and Kokichi briefly wondered whether or not she did that on purpose. Then he proceeded to disregard that thought, because of _course_ she did it on purpose.

 

“Well, if it’s not a dildo, what is it?” He tilted his head and put on his best doe-eyes, peering up at her through low eyelashes and relishing in the way that she squirmed in her seat. “Some other kinda gross sex toy?”

 

“N-No,” she sputtered, pulling on the ends of her hair. “It’s a mood alterer. I d-didn’t really have anyone to spend the holidays with, so I figured…”

 

At that, Kokichi straightened up and stared at her. And stared. And kept staring. Iruma shifted under his intent gaze and Kokichi could see the beads of sweat rolling down her forehead and to her cheek. It was gross.

 

“W-What?”

 

“You can alter moods now?”

 

“Well, k-kinda…” she looked away from him, “it doesn’t permanently alter it. It gives you a layover period. Just enough to make someone wanna fuck you and join ya for a quick romp!” as she spoke, her volume gradually increased and her previous confidence returned.

 

Kokichi had much worse things to worry about now.

 

A device that makes people want to have sex should _not_ be in the hands of Miu Iruma.

 

While he was preoccupied with the upcoming horror on the horizon, he failed to notice Kaede Akamatsu and Amami sit down next to him. That is, until a slender finger poked right into his shoulder. He nearly jumped, and when he saw Akamatsu right next to him he got the sudden urge to jump ship and dash, but he stayed planted, put on a firm smile, and threw his arms behind his head. “Oh! Akamatsu-chan~! Just in time!”

“For what?”

 

“Iruma-chan was just telling me about her sex toy collection. I think you’ll enjoy it~!”

 

“H-Hey!” Iruma’s voice was suddenly far closer to his ear than he recalled. “Stop lyin’, ya piece of shit!”

 

“Nishishi~! Oops, ya got me!” He completely turned away from Iruma, silently grateful for the company of Akamatsu and Amami more than ever, even if Akamatsu apparently knew one of his best-kept secrets. “So Akamatsu-chan, why’re you here?” His gaze drifted to Saihara, Harukawa, and Momota. Saihara was chatting with the two of them, but if Kokichi stared long enough he would notice how subtly Saihara’s gaze would snap to the four of them, quick as a flash, then turn back to Harukawa and Momota. “Aren’t you usually with Saihara-chan~? Did you two break up, hm?”

 

“Ouma-kun, you know we aren’t like that. More importantly, I was actually thinking about inviting you guys on a little ski trip with us.” That was suspicious. Before Kaede’s sudden text the other day, he couldn’t recall a single positive conversation with the girl, and even the text exchange was debatable. Granted he couldn’t exactly remember a fully positive conversation with _anyone_ , but that was besides the point!

 

Iruma spoke up, “what? Why’d the fuck we do that? We just got back from break.”

 

“Oh, well…” Akamatsu fidgeted, caught Kokichi’s eye, and nodded. The fuck? “Amami-kun wanted to go.” She didn’t stop staring at Kokichi. Is this a setup?

 

Kokichi broke eye contact with the pianist, stared at the green-haired avocado behind her, and watched as he merely nodded along like he was a part of her giant, elaborate ruse. Was he? Probably, he was one of the few people that Kokichi couldn’t quite figure out.

 

He turned back to Akamatsu, who still hadn’t stopped staring at him. It almost creeped him out. _Almost_ being the key word. She was looking at him like he should already have a solid grasp on her weird, convoluted plan. It probably had something to do with Saihara, if he had to guess… wait…

 

“Hey, Akamatsu-chan,” he tilted his head, “who exactly is going?”

 

“Ah, well… me, Amami, Saihara…” she bit her lip, like she was desperately fighting with herself and losing miserably. “... and that’s it.”

 

_Liar._

 

“Oh, really? You’re not inviting Harumaki and Momota-chan? That’s _so_ cruel, Akamatsu-chan~! I might just cry!”

 

“They’re not interested in skiing,” she said, a slight smile masking her obvious lies, “it’s too cold for them.”

 

“And for me! Fuck that!” Iruma piped up.

 

 _Shut up._ “Hmmmm… well, let me think Akamatsu-chan… how about… _no._ ” Kokichi took great pleasure in the way her smile fell. _Really!_ “That sounds _so_ boring! I mean, a _ski trip?_ Really? You could do better than that. Or are you really so uninteresting that you’d join in on something as basic as that?”

 

Amami cut in, “did you just say basic?”

 

Kokichi chose to ignore the boy, because he too was ashamed with his word choice. “ _Aaaanyways~!_ Like I was saying, no way, no how! Get lost, Akamatsu-chan~!”

 

Akamatsu stayed seated. _Dammit._

 

“... no seriously, go away.”

 

No dice.

 _God,_ she was so annoyingly persistent! He had always pegged her for an obnoxious hero type like Momota, not a meddler like some fuckers on the desperate housewives!

 

Akamatsu shifted, moved her eyes from Kokichi to the center stage where the principal had just made his debut, and stayed seated just to Kokichi’s right, far away from her normal ensemble. It infuriated Kokichi to his core.

 

* * *

 

“... what were you doing talking to Ouma-kun earlier?”

 

“Hm? What are you talking about, Shuichi?” Shuichi was unimpressed by Kaede’s supposed innocence, and watched her through deadened eyes as she walked merrily along the corridor after school. They were on their way to the music room, but Shuichi desired nothing more than to go to his room and _sleep._ He had been running on fumes the entire day, and Kaede’s sudden obsession with Ouma’s group had caused random bouts of nerve-fuelled anxiety to rid his day.

 

Shuichi sat down in a chair next to the piano as Kaede readied her sheet music. “The assembly. You sat down with Ouma and were talking to him.”

 

“Hm… are you _jealous_ , Shuichi?” Shuichi’s heart dropped. She didn’t know… no, there’s no way she could… oh god, had she known the _entire_ time? That would mean that she knew he lied about being gay and that -- “just kidding!”

 

One day, Shuichi was going to snap from pent up rage and actually kill someone. Today was not that day. He sighed, “yeah, I figured.”

“Anyways, it was nothing much~!” She hummed the tune of Clair de Lune under her breath, idly brushing the correct keys with the tips of her fingers. “I was just inviting them to the ski trip!”

Wait. “ _What?_ Kaede!”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t ‘ _what_ ’ me, are you trying to get Ouma killed? Maki will _actually_ kill him if he acts like his usual self! He’s an instigator!”

 

“I think you should have more faith, Shuichi.” She grinned lazily, a twinkle in her eyes, “Maki’s not _that_ violent, and Ouma-kun could probably act normal if he really felt like it.” Shuichi took special notice of the fact that even _Kaede_ , of all people, didn’t have complete faith in Ouma, “it’ll be fine!”

 

If Kaede were in the midst of a zombie apocalypse or some other kind of world-ending disaster, Shuichi wondered if she’d be of the same mindset.

 

“... what’d they say?”

 

“Oh, well…” she stared at the keys, “they weren’t too sure, but I think with enough prodding they’d be happy to!”

 

 _That_ sounds out of character.

 

“... really?”

 

“Mhm! Iruma-san will probably come if Ouma goes, and I think Ouma just needs a little push, and I already have an idea for that --” what, “and Amami’s the one that helped plan this trip in the first place, so he was already a given.”

 

“... what did you have in mind for Ouma?”

“Hm?” She feigned ignorance, like she hadn’t heard his question. She lifted her hands, poised to start playing a melody so beautiful that it would inevitably distract Shuichi from his worries.

 

“... Kaede.”

“Shuichi.”

 

Yeah, that conversation was going nowhere.

 

* * *

 

 ** _Me:_** hey ouma

 

 ** _Kokichi Ouma:_** Ooooh, Saihara-chan~! Long time, no talk! What’s up?

 

 ** _Me:_** did kaede happen to ask you about something

 

 ** _Me:_** regarding a ski trip

 

 ** _Kokichi Ouma:_** Oh, a ski trip? Am I invited~?

 

Yeah, that conversation went nowhere too.

 

* * *

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** i was thinkin bout it

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** and i realzed

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** ur sh arent u

 

 ** _Me:_** I hate the way you text.

 

 ** _Me:_** Why do you have my number?

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** gc

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** sme way u got shuiichis

 

 ** _Me:_** I’ll block you.

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** no u wont cuz i cn hlp u

 

 **_Me:_ ** There’s a such thing as spellcheck, ya know. Unless your spelling is so bad that not even *that* can help.

 

 **_Kayayday the Third:_ ** **Ouma!** That’s mean!

 

 ** _Me:_** What the hell.

 

 ** _Me:_** Abbreviations *and* capitalization!

 

 ** _Me:_** You even put a ‘u’ in my name! WOW, Kayayday, I’m impressed! Bravo! Do you want a cookie~?

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** Back to the point, if you come on the ski trip I can set you and Shuichi up ;)

 

 **_Me:_ ** I never answered whether I liked him or not.

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** o, u do ;)

 

 ** _Me:_** Oh great the shorthand is back.

 

 ** _Me:_** And how the hell would you know?

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** a speial lil birdie told me

 

 ** _Me:_** Amami?

 

 ** _Kayayday the Third:_** …… no

 

* * *

 

“Amami! You piece of shit!”

 

“Hm, what’d I do?”

 

Kokichi was wrestling with his emotions. On one hand, he wanted to strangle Amami. On the other hand, he also wanted to strangle Amami, but was tempted to go along with his and Akamatsu’s apparent plan to matchmake him and Saihara, for _whatever_ reason.

 

He marched past Amami’s barely ajar dorm door, ducked under his arm, and sat on his bed.

 

“... make yourself at home, I guess.” Amami rubbed his neck. “So did you come here just to call me a piece of shit, or is there another reason?”

 

Kokichi glanced around, as if someone was in Amami’s dorm room spying on the two of them. He lowered his voice, “you told Akamatsu that I liked Saihara-chan!”

 

“... you do.”

“You’re just going off of assumptions! For all you know, I could have a crush on Iruma!”

 

“... do you?”

 

“Gross, no!”

 

“Case closed.” Amami walked over to his desk and started writing on a paper laid out there, presumably continuing whatever it had been he’d been doing before Kokichi decided to make his debut. He seemed unperturbed by Kokichi’s sheer rage. Oh, _that_ would change soon!

 

“Case nothing!” He stalked over to his desk, silently appreciating the current difference in height. “Even if I did like Saihara, isn’t it bad etiquette to just go squealing to everyone about it? Especially _Akamatsu,_ who _apparently_ can’t keep her damn mouth shut! Hey, now that I think about it, no wonder you like her!”

 

Amami didn’t stop writing. He barely spared Kokichi a glance, and when his eyes met Kokichi’s he could detect the slightest hint of amusement within them. That little shithead! “Hey, in my defense Akamatsu actually figured out that you liked Saihara before I even mentioned the possibility to her. Plus, she _can_ keep a secret. She’s just trying to help Saihara.”

 

“Help him by revealing his crush _to_ his crush? What a good friend!”

 

Amami sighed, “no, it’s just…” finally he put down his pencil, swivelled in his chair, and faced Kokichi. “According to Akamatsu, Saihara would rather die before telling the person he likes his true feelings. He gets really anxious and starts overthinking every little thing. Akamatsu said that he’s seemed extra stressed lately, so…” Amami shrugged. “... she thought that she’d help him out, I guess.”

 

That seemed like a bullshit excuse to Kokichi, but for just this once he’d let it pass.

 

He still didn’t have solid proof that Shuichi liked him in the first place. It was hard to believe. Supposedly he’d told Kaede his true feelings regarding Kokichi, but he didn't buy it. It all seemed too good to be true. _No one_ liked Kokichi. It just wasn’t a thing that happened. Then all of the sudden he’s been roped into this teen romance drama, with him and Saihara as the stars? No, that didn’t make sense. Not in the fucking slightest.

 

DICE had just decided to inform him that they were breaking up two days ago. Couldn’t he have a moment of peace? The information that Saihara liked him logically should’ve made him shout for joy, but it didn’t. It made him nauseous and jittery and _scared._ He was _so scared._ When Akamatsu had first told him, he hadn’t been scared. What had changed?

 

_His mood._

 

That was a given. A familiar, aching nothingness still lingered within his heart. He was happy, yet devastated. He was scared, yet fearless. Every little thought, every little action, every little movement of his contradicted. He hated this. He hated his own mind.

 

“... so Ouma-kun, just to make sure we’re on the same page… do you like Saihara?”

 

Kokichi didn’t even realize that he had nodded.

 

“Do you want a relationship with him?”

 

_I don’t know! I don’t know, stop asking me--!_

 

He nodded.

 

“Then come on the ski trip with us. It’ll be fun, I promise. And maybe you can even lay that weird rivalry you have with Harukawa and Momota to rest, huh?” Momota was within the realm of possibility, but it’d take a hell of a lot of forgiveness on both his and Harukawa’s parts to become _acquaintances_ , much less friends. Not that he could ever reveal the reason behind _that_ little feud.

 

“... it sounds boring.”

 

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

 

_Yes._

 

“No.”

 

Amami knew better. “We’re leaving after school on Friday the twelfth. If you change your mind, we’ll wait for you.”

 

Kokichi nodded numbly, his own stupid heart controlling his actions far before his brain could keep up. _Stupid fucking mood swings… it was all their fault!_

 

Kokichi hated liars.

 

* * *

 

 

 ** _Me:_** Heeeeey~! Saihara-chan~!

 

 ** _totally gonna bang you one day:_** what

 

Yeah… he’s not digging _that_ new name. He clicked on Saihara’s icon and altered it.

 

 ** _Me:_** We should hang out!

 

( _And maybe this will prove to those fuckers that you_ obviously _don’t like me that way because you’ll say--_ )

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** its 3 in the morning

 

Fuck.

 

 ** _Me:_** yes

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** its 3 in the morning

 

 ** _Me:_** What’s your point?

 **_Saihara-chan~! <3: _ **…

 

 ** _Me:_** …

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** … we can’t hang out.

 

 **_Me:_ ** Why can’t we?

 

Kokichi bit his lip in anticipation, fully expecting rejection.

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** because its three in the morning

 

 **_Me:_ ** What if I asked you at 3 in the afternoon?

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** where would we be hanging out?

 

 ** _Me:_** My dorm room.

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** then sure

 

 ** _Me:_** … and if I asked you to hang out in the courtyard, in full view of everyone?

 

Saihara took longer to respond this time. As expected. Amami had mentioned his anxiety, and maybe he was scared that he’d look gay or something if they hung out (for whatever reason, but he supposed that Japan wasn’t exactly liberal when it came to gay relationships). He probably was worried about the consequences. _If_ he liked him. He still had a hard time believing that little tidbit.

 

 **_Saihara-chan~! <3: _ **then id have to think about it

 

… Saihara really was interesting.

 

 **_Me:_ ** … hey, Saihara-chan.

 

 **_Saihara-chan~! <3: _ **ouma-kun

 

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, desperately battling with the two opposing states of his subconscious.

 

‘ _Do you like me?_ ’

 

‘ _Or are you too nice to say that you don’t?_ ’

 

He wanted Saihara to love him.

 

He wanted Saihara to hate him.

 

He wanted Saihara to push him over, call him names, alienate him and give the little voice in his head the validation is desperately craved the rare few times that he chose to indulge in pity parties of his own accord.

 

At the same time…

 

… he wanted Saihara to hug him and stroke his hair, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear as Kokichi sobbed into his chest, vulnerable and resilient, about how his entire life was falling apart because _DICE_ was falling apart. A new constant, a new star, a new constellation, all made for Kokichi’s own safety. He wanted it, he craved it, he _yearned_ for it. He reached out his hand, grabbing blindly for Saihara’s to pull him back to the edge. _Please… save me_ , he’d cry. He wanted to cry. The feeling sucked and stung and burned and it was euphoric and joyful and irritating and annoying and-

 

He was shocked to the present.

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** um ouma are you okay?

 

 ** _Me:_** Are you going on the ski trip next week?

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** oh yeah… are you?

 

 ** _Me:_** Should I?

 

 ** _Saihara-chan~! <3:_** do you want to?

 

Kaede had said that she’d help them out, didn’t she?

 

… did he want that?

 

He wanted Saihara. He wanted his love and adoration. He wanted to snuggle under covers with him and sing stupid songs he made up on the spot and go on hikes and see the stars and _he just wanted someone to love him._

 

Is it worth it?

 

His friends hated him. He doubted that Saihara would choose him over his friends… perhaps that was why he was so insistent on them not being seen together in public. He must want them both.

 

How selfish.

 

If Kokichi were to go on the ski trip, Saihara wouldn’t be blamed for hanging out with him. Was that his game plan all along? … maybe this had all been Saihara’s plan from the beginning…

 

 **_Me:_ ** … yes.

 

And shit, before Kokichi could second-guess himself, he had already pressed send.

 

* * *

 

“I thought you said you hated the cold, Iruma.”

 

“I do.”

 

“Then why the hell are you coming with us?” Kokichi leaned on the wall outside of Hope’s Peak Academy, a tote of luggage beside him and a tote of Iruma a couple feet away.

 

Iruma scoffed, all bundled up nice and snug in a thick, woolen red scarf and a pair of matching stockings. It looked like she hadn’t realized that Christmas had past already. It was definitely the most conservative he had ever seen the inventor dressed, even if the buttons on her jacket _apparently_ were broken and couldn’t be used. “You guys would all be bored as fuck without me! You’re lucky I came!”

 

“Gross.”

 

“H-Huh?”

 

Akamatsu came up to the two of them, phone up to her ear. As she talked to Saihara on the other end, her breath fogged the air around her. “Mhm, yeah. See you in a few.” She hung up. “They should be here in a couple minutes. Apparently Kaito had a wardrobe malfunction.”

 

“Nishishi, what an idiot~!”

 

“Oh, about that, Ouma-kun…” although it would be nigh impossible to tell to the normal unperceptive observer, Kokichi immediately picked up on her disposition: her shoulders were tensed, as if preparing for a fight, and her gaze was oddly guarded. “They don’t really know you guys are coming yet… they only think Amami-kun is, and I know you guys don’t have the best relationship, so…” she sighed, “try not to antagonize him too much, okay?”

 

Kokichi shrugged, “no promises~! I can’t help but call him out when he’s being a dumb fuck, Akamatsu-chan~!” she cringed back at his language.

 

“Ouma-kun…”

 

“Hm, but if I _really_ have to, I _guess_ I’ll try!”

 

Akamatsu slouched, her disposition immediately reverting back to its’ previous state. “Thank you.”

“Oh, but you better say the same thing to him and Harumaki! No favorites! You wouldn’t want them to feel bad, nishi…”

 

“I don’t think they’ll have a problem with you if you don’t say anything mean.” Akamatsu had never been more wrong, but it’s not like she knew that. Momota would probably be fine with him, but Harukawa was an entirely different story. He doubted that she’d _ever_ be okay with him, and he’d say the same in the reverse too.

 

So Kokichi waited. She’d be proven wrong soon enough, anyhow.

 

“... what is _he_ doing here?” Speak of the devil! Just as they’d finished the conversation, Harukawa, Momota, and Saihara strolled up to the trio. Amami walked up to them too from where he’d been leaning against the wall, and Kokichi had the inkling of a feeling it was more to watch the drama play out than actually step in if things were to go south.

 

“Harumaki! Don’t be mean to Iruma-chan, she’s here too!”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

Akamatsu pinched the inside of his elbow and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “Ouma-kun!” she hissed, “we _just_ had a conversation about this!”

 

He shook her off. “Yeah, yeah, don’t antagonize,” he raised his voice, staring right into Harukawa and Momota’s eyes, fully aware that the duo could hear him. Momota actually didn’t seem too shocked to see him, and from where he stood he could see him resting his hand on Harukawa’s shoulders, like he was placating her. While Kokichi would _never_ feel gratitude for anything in relation to Momota, in that moment he felt the closest to it. Not that he’d ever say that. “But I can’t help it when _she’s_ the one antagonizing _me_ , Akamatsu-chan!”

 

“Maki,” Akamatsu turned to Harukawa, “I invited him and Iruma to come with us. Amami really wanted them to go, so…” _Liar._ “I thought, why not? Maybe it would be good for us to all bond!”

 

At that moment, Saihara stepped forward. He levelled his gaze with Harukawa’s. When she didn’t let up on her glare, he faltered just so, but still managed to maintain the stare. Kokichi’s adoration level for him rose. “Maybe it won’t be so mad, Maki. Ouma-kun can be fun if you get to know him.” His heart skipped a beat. “So we should just go for it.”

 

“... what do you mean ‘if you get to know him’?”

 

“Oh! Ah, well…” spluttered Saihara, grasping for any words to say in order to explain their current predicament. If Kokichi so wanted, he could easily spill the truth right then and there. Hiding was getting _so boring_ and he really didn’t see the point in it (though if Harukawa’s antagonism towards him was any indication, then he could manage to see Saihara’s point of view). If he _did_ happen to spill the beans, however, he doubted that Saihara would be so keen to forgive his breach of trust. Not like he would’ve been believed in the first place, because _poor, innocent Saihara_ surely _wasn’t fraternizing with the enemy_ , but to Saihara he could only envision that scenario going so well.

 

And of course, Iruma chose _that_ moment to speak up, “oh! I saw the twink and Shithara sextin’ the other day! Ha! They’ve been boning behind y’all’s backs this whole time!”

 

_God fucking dammit._

 

“W-What? Shuichi?”

 

“W-Wait, that’s a lie!” denied Saihara, “we weren’t doing anything! It was nothing!”

 

“Oh dear god,” mumbled Akamatsu.

 

“Shuichi, if you were dating him you should’ve just told us! I think you could do a _lot_ better than Ouma, but we’re willing to support you, bro!”

 

“Speak for yourself.”

 

  
“N-No! I’m telling you guys, it’s a misunderstanding!” At the moment, Kokichi desired nothing more than to jump on the train and start harassing Saihara about their ‘ _secret, forbidden love_ ’, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the way that Saihara was so fervently denying the claims, but that couldn’t have been it, because if anything that made Kokichi want to tease him more.

 

Saihara looked so scared.

 

Was that it?

 

His heart clenched at the thought of Saihara in pain; pain caused by _him._ He pushed the feeling down. He _shouldn’t_ , it was his _own fault for not being honest, it--!_

 

_Oh, who am I kidding?_

 

“Wow, Iruma-chan, I knew you were a dumb whore, but not _that_ dumb!”

 

Abruptly, all conversation halted, and the entire party turned at once to stare blankly at the offender. Normally Kokichi would puff out his chest and straighten his back under such an intense reaction to a simple sentence, but this time Kokichi stayed slouched, arms crossed in a desperate attempt to remain warm in the frigid temperatures and his classic checkerboard scarf pulled up to his nose, muffling his voice.

 

“H-Huh?” Saihara hadn’t bothered to try to catch on yet. That was fine with him. He’ll thank him later. Or not. Not like it matters to him, really.

 

“You _really_ thought I was texting Saihara-chan? Nishishi, _please~!_ I would _never_ want to indulge in a conversation with him, much less form a friendship with him! Ha! It was all a lie!”

 

“O-Ouma-kun?” _Of all times, why was it_ now _that Saihara had decided to start being shit at figuring things out? He’s a detective! Come on, please…_

 

Momota had let go of Harukawa. “W-What? You little shit! Take that back!” Akamatsu’s hand had never left his elbow. She gave a sharp squeeze, warning him. Too late now.

 

“Oh? Take what back? I’m just telling the truth. Right, Saihara-chan?” He gazed into Saihara’s eyes. They rung of pure, unadulterated _confusion._ Kokichi widened his eyes just enough, to where someone that didn’t know him better would have no clue what he was doing. He tossed away that little voice in his head that nagged: _but you’re a liar, he has no clue who you are._ He stared, and stared, and _stared_ into Saihara’s hurt eyes, at his trembling lips, at the reddened tip of his nose and the equally red tint in his cheeks.

 

“... yeah.”

 

Kokichi leapt for joy. “See! We’re not friends, and we’re _definitely_ not boyfriends--” he cringed at his own word usage. If Saihara didn’t figure him out _soon_ , this would be _bad._ “--so you all don’t have to worry your pretty little heads about it.” _What could he say? What could he say to make Saihara catch on? Oh!_ “Saihara-chan would _never_ want to be friends with a liar like me!”

 

 _There it was._ Kokichi could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. Bullet dodged. He wouldn’t want to have to deal with _that_ disaster. This entire situation was already a disaster in the making.

 

When Harukawa and Momota looked about ready to pounce on him at any given opportunity, Amami finally decided to speak up and inform him that his driver had arrived. _That bastard, he enjoyed that little show, didn’t he?_

 

As they departed Hope’s Peak Academy and headed to the ski lodge that Amami had rented, Kokichi ignored the odd little look that Saihara kept shooting his way.

 

* * *

 

“ _Woah!_ It’s huge~!”

 

Shuichi had known that Amami was rich. Kaede had mentioned the fact to him on more than one occasion, and the way Amami presented himself didn’t lead Shuichi to believe that the teen was poor. That being said, he didn’t know _how_ rich.

 

So when they had arrived at the ski lodge that Amami had graciously told them he had a reservation at, he hadn’t really expected much. In Shuichi’s mind, it didn’t seem reasonable to spend an excessive amount of money to stay at a lodge when they would only be there for two days.

 

He was wrong.

 

The lodge rose far above the trees. If Shuichi would take a rough guess, he’d say that it must’ve been five stories or more. A beautiful, gold adornment lined the wooden panelling on the outside, and when they had stepped inside, they were shocked into reality by a constant, prevalent lavender and cinnamon scent that decorated every inch of the area.

 

The lobby itself must’ve twice the size of Shuichi’s apartment, and his uncle had a _large_ apartment. They definitely weren’t poor.

 

And then there were the actual rooms.

 

For whatever reason, the lodge architects had decided that it would be a fantastic idea to put full-sized chandeliers in the guest rooms. It hung high in the center of the room, into the indented ceiling. Glass pearls and crystal shards tickled the end of a fly swatter Kokichi had (for whatever reason) decided to pack for the trip.

 

There were actual beds too, not even futons like he half-expected. The boys were supposed to be sharing one room while the girls slept in another, so he when he had heard that there would be beds, he fully expected to be sharing one with Kaito or something. Yet the staff had decided to pull another curveball on them; they must’ve thought it was fun to see Shuichi’s absolute despair-fuelled faces or something. For queen-sized, woolen, white beds lined the walls, one for each of them.

 

Shuichi turned to Amami, desperation leaking into his tone and he’d be surprised if he later found out that he _didn’t_ look like a total tool. “Amami-kun! This is too much!”

 

“Hm? Oh, is it? Don’t worry, it didn’t cost too much.”

 

_Yep. I don’t stand a chance with Kaede._

 

Ouma had already taken to claiming a bed, shoving his shoes off and tossing his thick jacket onto the covers. He bounced onto it, delighting in the way it tossed him up and down. “Lighten up, Saihara-chan~! Just enjoy the experience!”

 

 _There’s no way I could enjoy it guilt-free…_ he thought, but he neglected to tell Ouma that. Somehow he got the feeling that he wouldn’t quite understand his concern. Maybe Ouma had come from a rich family, too? He definitely seemed a bit spoilt...

Kaito poked his head out of the bathroom and waved frantically at Shuichi. “Bro! Come check out the water pressure in here, it’s _insane!_ ”

 

“Wow, Momota-chan, you’re sure entertained easily, huh? What an idiot.”

 

“W-What? You’re the one bouncing on the bed! That’s way more childish than dope water pressure!”

“It’s fun.”

 

“T-That… you _little--!_ ”

 

Shuichi had a feeling that it would be a long weekend.

 

* * *

 

The truth was that Kokichi didn’t know how to ski. When prompted, he’d replied with a cheery “yep, who do you take me for?” and left it at that and Akamatsu had seemed satisfied with the answer enough. For whatever reason, in his mind, he didn’t actually expect to be on the top of a mountain, all padded up and with skis attached to his feet. Maybe he could ‘suddenly’ get a fit of nausea… they probably wouldn’t expect him to ski then...

 

Akamatsu glided up next to him. “We’re commencing the plan!” and left it at that, then proceeding to ski over to Iruma to whisper something to the girl. Odd. Now that he’d thought about it, those three’s night in the lodge must’ve been even more chaotic than the night that he had been forced to endure (granted, he was the cause of most of the chaos in the first place, but he’d rather not dwell on that).

 

He supposed that Akamatsu must have something up her sleeve. Maybe she’d force them to spend alone time together? That sounded right up her alleyway.

 

He was right.

 

“Alright!” she called out after finishing her whisper fight with Iruma, gesturing for the few stragglers on the outsides of their group to come closer. Kokichi forced his shaky legs to move, more using his skis as shoes than actually using them to _ski._ He had no idea how they all did it, this shit was hard. “So! A few of us here don’t actually know how to ski, so I was thinking that we could assign helpers? You know, just to help each other get into the groove!”

 

Kokichi already saw where this was going and he hated it.

 

“Shuichi! You don’t know how to ski, right?”

 

“Ah, n-n-no…”

 

“You should go with Ouma-kun then! He said he knows how!”

 

Kokichi had always expected his lies to catch up with him. He fully expected one day to finally be gunned down, dead to the world and dead to DICE, bleeding from every orifice imaginable and hooked up to a lie detector only for every one of his acquaintances to find out that the reputation he had so tenaciously built up was completely and utterly fake, that he was nothing more than a simple, pacifistic prankster.

 

Kokichi was still dying, just not as literally as he’d envisioned. Shuichi walked closer to him, also using his skis as shoes, and Kokichi spoke to whatever was holy and said that he _really_ didn’t want to go out like this. He got no response. Dammit. Not even in his moment of need.

 

“A-Ah, hi, O-O-Ouma-kun.” God, Saihara was shivering like a wet dog! Kokichi was half-tempted to peel off his jacket and hand it to the boy, but Saihara was already covered to hell and back in comfort and then that would mean that _Kokichi_ would be cold. “You k-k-k-n-now how to s-s-s--?”

 

“Jesus Christ, Saihara-chan, are you dying?”

 

“W-W-We-l-l tech-n-n-ically w-e--”

 

“Forget I asked.” He puffed out a harsh breath, marvelling as it misted the air. His mind drifted back to the ski lodge. It would probably be nice and toasty in there… they could use that as an excuse to bail… _and_ that way Saihara wouldn’t have to see his piss-poor skiing skills! Everyone wins! “Do you want to head inside? It’s warmer there.”

 

“N-N-No!” The punctuality of his statement was deterred by his stutter. “I-I-I can st-t-till do it!” For emphasis, Kokichi was forced to watch as Saihara walked away like a man on a mission, still using his skis for shoes. He turned back to stare at Kokichi.

 

“... what?”

 

“A-A-Are y-y-y-ou going to h-h-help?”

 

Oh, yes. The part that Kokichi had been dreading the entire trip. _Good luck lying your way out of this one, shit head._ “... I’m good watching from back here. It’s fun seeing you squirm.” _Oh, good, now you’ve insulted him! Try again!_ “... and I prefer not to use muscles.” _… that didn’t help much, but better._

 

Saihara stared at Kokichi, blinked, and then mumbled, “w-w-well I supp-po-se I c-c-can go a-s-s-s-sk K-K-Kaito…”

 

“No!” The pair of them were startled by Kokichi’s sudden outburst, and Kokichi regretted even raising his volume in the slightest. They were still on a steep mountain and not too many people were skiing today, so he heard his own voice echoed across the province.

 

Kokichi gestured for Saihara to come closer. Saihara raised a brow, gestured to his own failure as a skier, and waited. This was going nowhere.

 

With a heavy heart and his pride in shreds, Kokichi hobbled towards Saihara over his clunky skis. Saihara merely stared. His eyes went back and forth from Kokichi’s effort -- which was a hell of a lot worse than Saihara’s considering Kokichi’s height -- and the boy’s face, lip quirked in amusement. Goddammit Akamatsu.

 

When Kokichi had made his way over, the first words out of Saihara’s mouth were, “you don’t know how to ski.” And _of course_ he’d stopped stuttering enough just to utter that sentence! Just his luck.

 

“Gee, thanks detective! Couldn’t figure that out on my own!”

 

“Y-Y-You couldn’t?”

 

Kokichi gave him a weak glare, willing his knees to stop wobbling and his lips to stop trembling. “You’re annoying.”

 

Saihara gave him such an innocent, pure smile that Kokichi briefly wondered if Saihara was also a professional liar, because he knew _full well_ just how much of a little shit he was being. “The n-n-number of people that don’t know ho-o-ow to ski and the p-p-people that do is outnumb-b-bered now… since M-M-Maki and Iruma also couldn’t.”

 

“Yeah, I _know_ that. Geez, Saihara-chan, for an ace detective you’re pretty dumb!”

 

Saihara waved off his insult. “Well… I don’t want to cause Kaede a hassle. She’s already teaching Iruma.” Oh god, he could only imagine how well _that_ was going. “M-M-Maybe you should just pretend like you’re tea-a-aching me?”

 

Kokichi gasped, “ _Saihara-chan!_ That’s _deception!_ Have you always been this much of a liar?”

 

Shuichi softly laughed and said, “you’d be surprised.”

 

To the surprise of no one, they didn’t get much skiing done that day. Well, no _successful_ skiing.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi Saihara couldn’t sleep.

 

On most nights, Shuichi couldn’t sleep.

 

On most nights in the past month and a half, he had found himself texting Ouma on the regular, talking like normal high school boys that didn’t, for a reason still unbeknownst to him, have a rivalry between their two groups that they were a part of. Or more like, his group had two members that hated Ouma with a passion. That seemed more accurate.

 

However, as of present, Ouma was sat in a bed on the far end of the room, far away from his own. He _could_ try texting him, but he felt like that’d be a bit awkward… plus, whose to say that Ouma is even awake right now? The mattresses _are_ pretty soft…

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Hey, Saihara.

 

Speak of the devil. He raised a curious brow on the lack of an honorific, but didn’t pay it too much attention.

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Wanna bail?

 

 ** _Me:_** … huh?

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** It’s SOOOO stuffy in here, we should just go out, just the two of us, to the lobby or something~! I reallly wanna talk to you, Saihara-chan~!

 

 **_Me:_ ** we hung out all day. you were teaching me how to ski

 

 **_Me:_ ** well you were supposed to

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** I resent that!

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Also, I know, but think about it! When we get back to school, we’re gonna have to pretend like we don’t know eachother again, right? And we have to leave tomorrow… Harumaki and Momota will probably not like it that much if you suddenly start talking to me, so…

 

 **_Me:_ ** what are you suggesting

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Just for today, we should hang out!

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** For realsies!

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** I’ll miss you, Saihara-chan…

 

Shuichi fought against the blush that threatened to overtake his face. _He’s bluffing,_ he reminded himself, _he’s always bluffing._

 

Shuichi knew he was probably going to regret his next text the very moment he hit send, but despite himself he typed:

 

 **_Me:_ ** sure

 

And Ouma was out like a rocket. If Shuichi wasn’t awake, he wouldn’t have noticed the faint sound of his mattress creaking and his feet dancing across the floor, and he definitely wouldn’t have noticed the small ray of light that entered the room as the hall lights flooded in.

 

Shuichi bent down to pull on his own shoes.

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** I’ll be waiting outside~!

 

Sure enough, as soon as Shuichi opened the door to the hallway, Ouma was sat on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest and head balanced precariously on them. He was still wearing his nightwear, but Shuichi couldn’t really say much because he was too.

 

Ouma grinned. “Saihara-chan~! You’re here! I thought you would ditch me for sure!”

 

Shuichi neglected to mention that it had only been a minute max since Ouma had left the room. “Well… what do you want to do?”

 

Ouma hopped to his feet, grabbed Shuichi’s hand, and started dragging him to god-knows-where. _His hands are so soft…_ he thought, then proceeded to immediately stifle, because he’d rather not go into _that_ territory. “To wherever the wind takes us!”

 

“We’re inside,” deadpanned Shuichi.

 

“Ah, shit! I knew I was forgetting something. You’re so smart, Saihara-chan~! I might just start falling for you!” _Please do_ . What the fuck. Intrusive thoughts are a bitch. “Or maybe I already have…” he mumbled that part so softly that Shuichi felt like he wasn’t supposed to hear it, but then again knowing Ouma he probably _was_ supposed to hear it.

 

“Hey, Ouma-kun…”

 

Ouma hummed.

 

He didn’t know what he wanted to say. What _could_ he say? He barely knew anything about him! He didn’t know anything except… wait. “... tell me about DICE.”

 

In his hand, Ouma’s grip tightened. His speed increased, like he was desperately trying to escape the situation despite being the one to drag Shuichi with him.

 

“Ouma-kun…”

 

Ouma was silent. Then he asked, “... why do you want to know?”

 

Truthfully, Shuichi didn’t know. In most areas of life, he had always been so certain. Everything was simple. Everything he could figure out. Everything he knew. It was rinse and repeat. If he failed, there wasn’t a harsh penalty, and he rarely failed in the first place, at least not when it came to puzzles.

 

Yet with Ouma… _everything_ was a mystery. He found himself intrigued, enraptured, yearning and desperately craving for _more and more and more_ and he wanted to know _everything_ about him. Maybe the thought of knowing everything made him feel more certain, made him more secure, made him less uneasy of the boy and made him feel like he really cracked everything. But that wasn’t it. He never wanted to know everything about Ouma. He wanted to keep digging, and he wanted Ouma to keep supplying, and even if one day he miraculously _did_ know everything about Ouma, he still felt like he would be enamored. Every second of every day, if he was by Ouma’s side, then… he’d feel complete.

 

“Because…” _because. There are so many reasons, but there’s no reasons. How could I choose?_ “... because…” _I don’t know. I want to know._ “... because…”

 

Ouma slowed to a stop. They were at the end of an older section of hallway, with hardly any rooms surrounding them. It must have been rarely used. The carpeting was old and the walls looked as though they needed a new paint job, but even then it just resembled the carpeting and paint of an average hotel.

 

He turned around to face Shuichi. His expression was perfectly, indecipherably blank. Shuichi couldn’t detect a hint of malice yet he still felt beautifully terrified by its’ absolute lack of feeling.

 

_This._

 

_This is why I want to know more about you._

 

_I want to find out what that face means._

 

“... because…” he stared deep into those violet eyes, “... because I want to know more about you. I want to know who you are.” Ouma’s face was still blank. Shuichi took a deep breath and _whispered_ out, “a lot of people might not understand you… but _please help me._ ”

 

It was silent for a minute. Then two. Then three. For a good while, there wasn’t a hint of sound in the premises. Ouma was carefully watching Shuichi, perhaps deciding for himself if he was truly trustworthy. Shuichi felt himself begin to twitch nervously, an impulse growing within him to right the wrong and run away from the situation.

 

After a while, Ouma spoke up. “DICE didn’t have ten thousand members.” His perfectly blank face vanished, and an innocent, childish grin overtook his face, like he was reliving memories of youth and joy. “It had ten.”

 

Long into the night, Ouma sat and talked about his childhood and DICE. As he talked, Shuichi found himself grasping onto every single word he left his lips, like it was a precious, rare drop of nectar in a nuclear wasteland.

 

In that moment, Shuichi didn’t care about what Harukawa and Momota might of thought if they saw him sitting and talking to Ouma at the end of a long, desolate corridor. He didn’t care about his nerves. He didn’t care about school, or his current case, and he didn’t even care about _Kaede._

 

All he cared about was the boy sitting right in front of him. All he cared about was Kokichi Ouma.

 

He didn’t want this conversation to be their last face-to-face discussion. When he got back to the academy, he wanted to talk with Ouma, day in, day out. Maybe he wouldn’t do it during the day. Maybe they could at night, like right now, when everyone was asleep and no one gave a damn about reputation.

 

Shuichi Saihara really cared about Kokichi Ouma, this much he knew.

 

If only he had just figured out just _how much_ he cared.

 

**2 MONTHS, ONE WEEK, 3 DAYS LEFT**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope a lot of this didn't seem weird. I was in such a weird mood when writing this, 3/4 of the time I was sleep deprived, and honestly at the end I rushed a bit. I didn't even revise the last 20 pages (I'll prolly go back and do that once I get back from book club lol, maybe even add a scene to make it run smoother near the end). 
> 
> Anyways, please, please tell me your thoughts on this chapter! I really want to know if the ending seemed rushed or if that's just my own brain. I dunno, what do you guys think?
> 
> TWITTER:  
> https://twitter.com/M_BTree


	5. me: Will you go to the dance with me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi realizes the truth that he's been missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAA hey!! Sorry for the long wait, my past few weeks have been hectic, but I hope this chapter more than makes up for it ;) Can't say much without spoilers but, ya know. Have fun~!

Sometimes at the brink of midnight, Kokichi Ouma would sneak up to the Hope’s Peak rooftop and marvel at the sights below, meters and meters from the ground. Occasionally he’d let his toes touch the edge of the roof and would ever so slightly begin to lean forward. On the rare chance that he did lose his footing, he’d slump back to the ground in a fit of panic, dazed and confused and so exhilarated.

 

On most days, he was alone.

 

On days like today, Saihara accompanied him.

 

The night was quiet. Snowflakes tickled his nose and his lips. Saihara had a glob of snow melting into his hair, a knitted red scarf wrapped securely around him and all bundled up in layers upon layers of clothing. Unsurprisingly, he was still shivering, and Kokichi could only watch in mild amusement as the otherwise composed boy succumbed to the cold.

 

“Saihara-chan, if you’re so cold then why’d you decide to bring us up here?”

 

“N-No one c-c-comes u-up here!”

 

_Little do you know._

 

Kokichi hummed, nodded, and stared down at the darkened campus grounds below, legs swinging in the empty air over the edge, kicking and twirling. Usually, Kokichi would fill the area with banter and dull quips. Typically he’d be squirming in discomfort over the uneasy melancholy of silence. With anybody else, he would be completely and utterly perturbed and scared and downright nervous at the lack of sound.

 

With Saihara, it was different.

 

With Saihara, he felt free to indulge in the quiet night, staring up at a crescent moon while the world was set to soon go to hell beneath his feet.

 

Kokichi leant his back to the pavement, closed his eyes, and smiled.

 

* * *

 

“So the dance is coming up.” About one hour before classes started, Kaede had confronted Shuichi just outside the cafe the school offered while he had been waiting for his morning cup of joe, frappe in hand and a bendy straw firmly planted between her lips. She winked at him, a little quirk in the underside of her opposite brow.

 

Of course, Shuichi knew what she was talking about. It was all _everyone_ was talking about. Apparently for Hope’s Peak Academy, the ultimates that the school housed decided to drop their actual jobs in the month of February in order to court the fair maiden or lad that had caught their eye. Shuichi didn’t really see a point in Valentine’s Day (well, he _did_ , but he didn’t want to partake in it!), he was still trying to solve that locked room case. He should be focusing on that.

 

 _Is what he would_ like _to say._

 

Truth be told, Shuichi desperately wanted to ask Kaede to the dance. Logically, he knew that she would reject him at the drop of a hat, and then she’d probably break off their friendship because of his horrid lie about him being gay too. He couldn’t help it, he’d bet that she would look _so pretty_ in a big, fancy dress, all dolled up and beautiful _just for him._

 

_… I could say that we could go just as friends…_

 

He immediately shut down that train of thought.

 

“ _So…_ ” she leant up to him, grinning all wide and sinister. “You gonna ask your super secret crush?”

 

“Ah…” he avoided eye contact, “we’ll see. I don’t think they like me.”

Kaede hummed. “Well, I’d beg to differ, Shuichi! You’re a real catch! Anybody would be lucky to have you.” Somehow he doubted that she’d feel the same way if she knew the truth. “You should just go for it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“Saihara! Saihara Shuichi!” the barista called his name, a cup of black coffee held out as her gaze drifted around the cafe. Shuichi went up to the young adult, softly muttering a thank you under his breath. Kaede trailed after him.

 

She pouted. “Shuichi! Are you ignoring me?”

 

He took off the lid to his cup, dumping in a bit more sugar than was wholly necessary. He’d need a _lot_ of energy to get through the day, already it was a headache. “No, Kaede. I just think the situation is worse than you think.”

 

“Oh, really? Because you’re gay? I know our country isn’t on the liberal side, but the people in our class are different! Nobody cares! Just look at Chabashira!”

 

His head pounded. He took a swig of his coffee.

 

“Trust me, Shuichi! Just go for-”

 

“Kaede.” Shuichi spun around, his coffee fully lidded and his expression carefully guarded - or as guarded as Shuichi could make it, he wasn’t exactly the best actor. It was a miracle that she hadn’t caught on. “Let it go. Please.”

 

He must’ve gotten through to her somehow, because she immediately shut her mouth and stopped her next train of thought.

 

As they walked back to the school, Kaede chattering nonsensically about a random topic that had crossed her mind, he tapped his thigh three times and counted.

 

_I wish you knew, Kaede, just how much I want to ask my crush to the dance. I wish you could understand just how much I like you._

 

A pair of childish, violet eyes entered his mind.

 

_I wish that I understood why I can’t stop thinking of him, even though I like you._

 

* * *

 

Kokichi was floating.

 

In his dreamland, he rose above the clouds, angelic and beautiful and serene and everything he was not. Saihara sat next to him, legs crossed as he gazed at Kokichi with nothing short of reverence.

 

“Hey, Ouma-kun,” he would say.

 

“Yes, Saihara-chan?”

 

“I love you.”

 

And then Kokichi would wake up. He would wake up from his fantasy, his dreamland, his sleep, all drenched and sweaty and gross and everything that Saihara definitely did _not_ like, Akamatsu’s claim be damned.

 

_Though he does like to hang out with you alot…_

 

Kokichi banished the treacherous thought and stared up at the ceiling. _DICE didn’t like you enough to stick around, after all._

 

That time, he didn’t banish the thought. He grew with it, molded it, and fostered it. At that point, if he were anybody else he _probably_ would’ve been crying. But he didn’t. He stared and stared and _stared_ , unmoving, unblinking, and completely and utterly _numb._

 

It had finally sunk in.

 

DICE really wasn’t coming back. His talent was useless, his leadership was useless, and he finally realized just how completely and utterly _fucked_ he was. Akamatsu was wrong. Saihara didn’t like him. Nobody liked him. He was just a selfish, ignorant, spoiled _brat!_

 

“Ouma-kun,” a voice whispered, reminiscent of Saihara’s own. He perked up, searching and surveying the area around him. Nothing. No one was there. He was alone, abandoned to his own craziness.

 

Kokichi pulled his knees to his chin. “Nothing really matters,” he sung, “to me~!”

 

_What a pity party._

 

* * *

 

“A dance, hm?” Kokichi leant back in his chair, tearing his eyes away from Akamatsu’s sickening, pleading gaze. “Not interested.”

 

“ _What?_ But why not?”

 

“Supreme leaders don’t go to dances.”

 

“Even if their favorite boy detective will be there?” At that, Kokichi snapped to attention. He looked cautiously around the room, despite the other inhabitants sitting near the other side of the classroom, huddled around Momota’s desk as the boy fidgeted with some sort of device.

 

He hissed, “keep it down, would you?”

 

“Huh? Why? Shuichi isn’t even in here, and everyone else is over there.”

 

“Yeah, but…” he bit his lip. No way, no how. Like he’d ever be that truthful with Akamatsu. He ripped his gaze away from his desk and locked it firmly onto Akamatsu, smiling and laughing as though nothing was wrong. “Nishishi, that was just a lie~! You fell for it!”

 

Akamatsu stared. “... what was the lie? You didn’t say anything.”

 

“Oh, you found me out! Jokes on you, me saying it was a lie was just a lie! And then that was a lie too! Me: two, you: zero!” Kokichi tilted his head. “Hey, hey, Akamatsu-chan, what do you view as a lie? If you shift your perspective, isn’t a lie always the truth, too? Or, isn’t the truth always a lie? What is a lie, anyhow?” A very obvious attempt to change the subject, but an effective one. Akamatsu promptly shut up and regarded him with a look of curiosity, bottom lip poked out and eyebrows drawn low. Not exactly his intention, but it was better than the alternative.

 

The door burst open.

 

A frazzled Chabashira ran in, a bouquet of red  roses clenched in her fist and her braids frizzy and  mussed. The girl darted her eyes around the room, locked them onto Akamatsu, and promptly marched over to the class representative. From up close, Kokichi could see the faint mark of tear tracks lining her cheeks and the red-rimmed edges of her eyes.

 

Akamatsu must've noticed it too, because as soon as Chabashira had made her way to her she was already fussing over the aikido master, “Chabashira-san! Are you alright?”

 

Chabashira ignored the question. “Where’s Himiko?”

 

Akamatsu blinked. Kokichi normally would’ve chimed in with a torrid remark of his own, but he really didn’t feel up to getting flipped onto his own desk. “Yumeno-san? Why, what’s wrong?”

 

This time, Kokichi couldn’t resist. “What’s wrong?” he mocked, “she’s obviously going to confess her sweet, passionate lesbian love to Yumeno-chan!”

 

Apparently Chabashira was too disoriented to even acknowledge that a degenerate male was speaking in her presence, because she just nodded along pleasantly.

 

“Oh? You’re finally going for it?”

 

“Yeah. I mean,” Chabashira gazed to the bouquet in her fist, a fond smile overtaking her face. It was the most peaceful that Kokichi had ever seen her, and it freaked him the fuck out. Usually she was so over the top, hammy, and loud that even _Kokichi_ found himself annoyed by her presence (although it might also have to do with her _very blatant_ sexism). This time, despite the faint marks of mascara on her cheeks, she looked happy. “Himiko said that she isn’t into girls, but I don’t see how that is possible! Girls are amazing and beautiful creatures! So I want to see if she’s changed her mind since then. Even if she hasn’t, I’ll always wait for Himiko!”

 

Kokichi decided then and there that the universe must hate him, because the side eye that Akamatsu shot him was so damn smug that he nearly blew a gasket right then and there. “Oh, is that so?”

 

“Yes! Himiko is cute and small and amazing! I love her!”

 

At this point, Akamatsu had snapped her attention away from Kokichi to face Chabashira instead, a slight furrow in between her eyebrows. “It’s great that you found someone you love, Chabashira-san, but…” she trailed off and poked her bottom lip, pondering, “... if Yumeno-san says she isn’t into girls, it might be best to let that rest, don’t you think?”

 

Chabashira paused. From Kokichi’s position, he could see Chabashira’s grip on her flowers tighten just so. “... maybe. If Yumeno-san says no this time, maybe I really will give up. But…” she nodded sharply, turned on her heel, and promptly proceeded to head towards the exit.

 

“Huh? Chabashira-san!”

 

Chabashira threw her fist in the air and spun around, a livid grin on her face. If Kokichi decided to impersonate Momota, he would dare say - in his very Momota-esqe voice - that an entire constellation orbited in her gaze. Not like Kokichi would ever say that. No way. He wasn’t that sappy. “You motivated me, Akamatsu-san! Thank you!” and with that, she left. Momota’s group briefly looked up at her departure and then returned to whatever it was they were watching Momota do.

 

“... I did? I just warned her.”

 

“Lesbians be crazy.”

Kokichi immediately regretted chiming in with his own personal meme-ish quote. Akamatsu’s attention snapped to him and her previous gaze of arrogance had returned. “Oh! Ouma-kun, right, that reminds me…”

 

He picked up his briefcase. “Aaaaaand _that_ reminds _me!_ Got a doctor’s appointment today! With nurse Tsumiki-chan! I’ve been having _really_ bad stomach pains, ya know. I’m hoping she gives me viagra!”

 

“That’s not what…” she shook her head, “Ouma-kun, what are you running from?”

 

He ignored her and slung his briefcase over his shoulder. “Tell the teacher I’ll be absent, m’kay? For like… all day. Buh-bye, sweet dreams, don’t let the Amami-chan bite!” and with that, ignoring her flustered splutters behind him, he practically skipped out of the classroom, a mirthful grin planted on his face and a childish innocence marking his every step.

 

That was a lie, of course.

 

As luck would have it, Saihara had decided that that particular instant was the most opportune time to enter the classroom.

 

Kokichi heard a girlish squeal that was _most certainly not him_ fill the air and a firm mass rested underneath him. Kokichi’s face dug into Saihara's chest, red and sweaty and gross.

 

“Hm… O-Ouma-kun?” He felt Saihara sit up. He refused to lift his gaze. God, it would be so _obvious!_ “Uhm, Ouma-kun, are you alright?” He reached out and cupped Kokichi’s cheek, so gentle and so caring that it almost made Kokichi think they were dating, just for a sweet, short moment. Almost. “Y-You’re really red. Are you sick?”

 

_I’m about to be._

 

Yep, Kokichi _definitely_ had a real, stomach-turning ache that he felt had little intention of going away now. With a short “yep!” and a hastily shouted goodbye, Kokichi picked up his fallen briefcase and darted out of the room, the empire of utter filth and disdain far behind him. Yeah, he _really_ didn’t like it back there. Too many feelings!

 

He slowed to a jog. Nobody had followed him out. To be honest, he was surprised that Saihara had even gone so far as to _stroke his cheek_ (eek!) in the same vacanity as his actual friends. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment.

 

_Or perhaps it’s…_

 

Chabashira’s bouquet came to mind. By now, Chabashira had probably found Yumeno, asked her to the dance, and been flat out rejected. It rested in a trash bin on the far reaches of the school, he bet. Nobody would ever have use of those flowers again. If he really pondered it, he doubted that those flowers ever had a use in the first place.

 

He was outside on the same rooftop that he often stood, peering out to the world below him as though he were its’ merciless dictator. He would laugh and stretch his arms out and command armies, smiling and jovial and so innocent that many would doubt whether or not he was truly as evil as he made himself out to be.

 

For now, he didn’t smile nor laugh. He stared. He looked over the horizon, at the bright blue sky, and was silent.

 

Yeah, those flowers didn’t have a use. They only stood for misery and heartbreak.

 

At the fact that everyone leaves.

 

Saihara will leave him too.

 

* * *

 

 **_Me:_ ** spring break is already next month. crazy right?

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Not really, it’s been over a month since Christmas break and it’ll be another month until spring break. It’s a long gap in time. Unless… *gasp* Saihara-chan! You can’t tell TIME?!?! THE HORROR!!!!!!

 

 **_Me:_ ** so whatre you planning to do? going back to see your family?

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Pshaw! Those old clowns? I’d much rather stay here! It’s comfy, they have air-conditioning and everything!

 

Shuichi’s thumb paused over his phone. He wasn’t doing _anything?_ Shuichi wasn’t particularly close to his family either, but at least they were making an effort to gather during spring break in support of him.

 

… in support of him.

 

They’d probably support his friend joining them, right? His parents especially weren’t the most hospitable of people, but they’d never turn away somebody in need, their volunteer work in Africa spoke volumes about that (granted that was for publicity more than anything else). Though if he thought about it, Ouma wasn’t exactly the most tolerable of people so maybe it’d…

 

… he took a deep breath, tapped his thigh, and counted to three.

 

Screw it.

 

 **_Me:_ ** you can come to my familys? theyre not mean and theyre not the type to force you to do anything either so you could just chill… if you want to. if you dont want to its

 

He accidentally pressed send.

 

His brain short circuited. It took him a few beats to realize what he had just done, but once he did he had to muffle a scream with his hand. _Oh_ god! That was a weird thing to ask, wasn’t it? Sure they’d been friends for a few months, but surely Ouma wasn’t ready to actually spend time with his _family!_ They weren’t even _publicly_ friends!

 

… friends.

 

Crap, his friends would see him and Ouma leaving the campus together, wouldn’t they? They’d mock and sneer at him for betraying their trust and and and and-

 

_Calm down._

 

One, two, three. One, two, three.

 

_You’re fine._

 

His phone pinged from his lap. Shuichi jumped, his phone flying in the air for a split second whilst Shuichi fumbled to get his bearings. He snatched it, opened up his screen, and let out a tired sigh as he saw a text from Kaede instead.

 

 **_Kaede:_ ** i kno sme god dace moves btw

 

He squinted at the screen. I… know… some… God?... dace moves. Good dance moves?

 

 **_Me:_ ** sure you do Kaede

 

 **_Kaede:_ ** O: wats that spposed to mean???? ;_.

 

 **_Me:_ ** didnt i ask you to let this go? please?

 

A text from Ouma came in, lighting up the screen just a tad as the top of his message appeared over Kaede’s icon. “What’s the…” And then it was gone. Shuichi tapped the back of his monarch case, tracing the ridges and steep cracks and rifts with his index finger. His palms grew sweaty and he suddenly felt the strong, overwhelming desire to just _sleep._ It was one in the morning anyhow (who even _knows_ why Kaede’s awake) and he’d rather not almost fall asleep in class for the third time that week. Granted that was more his own fault (read: his insomnia’s fault) than Ouma’s, but as he laid back and his head touched his pillow, his eyelids felt heavy and tired.

 

He could humor Kaede in the morning and he’d really rather not bother with Ouma right now.

 

So he muted his phone just as Kaede’s next message came in, putting it on his nightstand and plugging it in as preparation for tomorrow.

 

Yeah, everything would be fine tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 **_Me:_ ** What’s the catch?

 

In the world, nothing existed without effect. In this world, Kokichi had been left one too many times in order to fully trust another person, much less someone who refused to even be seen with him in public. He wanted to, he craved to, he wanted to cuddle Saihara and tell him the truth and be the one person he needed.

 

That wouldn’t happen.

 

 **_Kayayday:_ ** daaaaaaaaaaance!!!!!

 

Oh god.

 

 **_Me:_ ** You’re boring me. What are you even doing awake.

 

 **_Kayayday:_ ** u need to ask shuichi! tust me!!

 

 **_Me:_ ** Why?

 

 **_Kayayday:_ ** hes to scaed to ask u himself! plz!

 

He wanted to. He wanted to dance with Saihara to a cheesy ass love song under glowing lights and a disco ball or whatever else their stupidly overfunded school had provided for the dance. He didn’t want to be locked away in his room eating vanilla ice cream and watching reruns of telenovellas that he was too lazy to even put the subtitles on for.

 

_“Shuichi… I love you!”_

 

He flopped backwards onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight and his blanket bouncing and unravelling from atop the bed. He held the phone far above his head, arms outstretched as though he were the lead dancer in a stage musical and knees folded perfectly over his lithe body. He rocked softly to and fro on his back, evaluating the situation.

 

On one hand, Akamatsu could be setting him up and the entire thing was a giant, elaborate ruse to oust him as gay to the whole school as soon as he’d asked Shuichi out. He could imagine it now, graffiti drawn over his desk with derogatory slurs and phrases and a single black rose put in a little water vase atop the center. Now, Kokichi had never exactly tried to hide his sexuality (a treacherous little voice in the back of his head reminded him that he _did_ , to Saihara of all people), he had just never been _asked_ (again, that voice nagged). It was the country that was the problem, not him! He could fully see his classmates’ taking advantage of his sexuality, exploiting him, mocking him, taunting him in the same way that he’d often taunt Momota or Harukawa or Iruma.

 

On the other hand, Akamatsu could actually be telling the truth. As crazy as it was to think, perhaps she _didn’t_ have an ulterior motive, she didn’t seem clever enough for that anyhow. Maybe, just maybe, he could have a chance of happiness; a chance of a future, with Saihara, forever and always.

 

Nah… that sounded dumb.

 

_What a horrible liar._

 

 **_Kayayday:_ ** hey ouma… can i call u?

 

No way. No way. That’s too intimate, too personal, he’d hear her voice right in his ear as she put on a voice of faux concern and hope and _she’d keep saying to follow his heart or some bullshit like that!_ Nope, he didn’t need it. He didn’t want it. ( _Yes you do.)_ No really, he didn’t! _(Why are you such a godawful liar?)_

 

 **_Me:_ ** Yeah.

 

Great, now _he’s_ the idiot!

 

Akamatsu began calling just a moment later and he heard the opening of _My R_ begin to play. As he attempted to answer the call from his awkward position, his left hand began to cramp and his blackberry fell straight onto his nose with a hard _thump._

 

Still rubbing his sore nose, he answered the call, “hey, Kayayday!”

 

Her voice was as annoying as ever, softened just a touch by fatigue, “why do you call me that?”

 

“Hm-hm?”

 

“Urgh… alright, anyways I’m tired and I wanna sleep so I’ll make this quick. Don’t you hang up on me either!”

 

Kokichi hung up.

 

He started cackling like a damn witch, stomach tensing and clenching as he laughed his fucking guts out. Oh dear lord, that was great, at any second she’d-!

 

The opening of _My R_ began to play once more.

 

Kaede was silent when he answered, as though waiting for him to speak first and beg for her forgiveness.

 

Yeah, right. He hung up again.

 

A second later, _My R_ ’s opening tune began to play for a third time.

 

“ _Can you stop doing that!”_ Kaede sounded exasperated and her voice had a slight lilt and pant to it, as though she had just run a mile. Kokichi bounced with childish glee.

 

“ _Fine, fine…_ I _guess_ I can stop.” His finger hovered over the end call button anyhow.

 

“... I know what you’re about to do. Stop that.”

 

“Huh? Stop what?”

 

“Ouma-kun, please… I know you’re avoiding the topic, but this is serious,” her voice was low, like she was warning him of an impending doom.

 

Kokichi wasn’t having any of it.

 

“Oh? It’s serious, is it? Our love life is that serious to you? Wow, you’re a real loser, Akamatsu-chan.” He sniffed and forced a nefarious grin onto his face - the one that his classmates would oftentimes opt to call demonic - despite the fact that Kaede couldn’t see him. Gotta get in character. “Now, I have a suggestion! How about you shut the _fuck_ up and let us handle this on our own? Capische?”

 

“... Ouma…” she went silent for a good minute. Kokichi waited on the other end, feeling completely and utterly shitty and languid; he felt like he was about to vomit. “... I’m worried about him.”

 

That peaked his interest. “... huh?”

 

“He’s…” she sniffled. Oh god, was she about to _cry?_ Kokichi often made a show of displaying crocodile tears with no remorse, but lord knows he could hardly handle _real_ tears. “... I think he’s depressed. He… he’s so silent now and guarded and he’s always lying… I think he’s scared but… I want to show him that he doesn’t _have_ to be scared. He’s… he’s scared of what might happen, he’s always shaking, he’s always tapping his thigh or fidgeting and I can tell he’s anxious, even the smallest little thing makes him panic. I’m… I don’t wanna _lose_ him, Kokichi.”

 

She used his first name. She _trusted him._ “... do you really think hanging out with someone like me would help him?”

 

She gave a soft laugh, empty and completely devoid of emotion, “I think it already has.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“... I’m not dumb, you know. I’ve noticed him texting you. He’s always smiling when he looks at his phone and he has the dopiest grin and it’s like he’s in love.”

 

_Love._

 

_“I love you, Ouma-kun.”_

 

 _“I love you,_ Kokichi.”

 

Akamatsu continued, “... and it makes me happy because I love him-”

 

Wait.

“-like a brother.” Oh thank god. He’d rather not be part of a love triangle if he could help it, those dramas always sucked ass. “So I want to look out for him. I want to help him. He’s too scared to do it on his own and you’re too stubborn-” _and scared_ “-so what am I supposed to do? I want to help but people keep telling me to stop. I want him to be happy.”

 

He hated himself, he actually felt _bad_ for Akamatsu. Not even the kind of ‘bad’ where you feel pity and sorry for someone, he just felt _bad._ Like hell he’d show that. “You haven’t ever thought that maybe your intervention is making him feel _worse?”_

 

“Of course I have. I just don’t want him to get even more depressed.”

 

“You’re being counterproductive.”

 

“I _know._ That’s why I need you to help me! If you take over from here, Shuichi will be happy,” she spoke with a lilt to her words, completely separate from her solemn mood just a few minutes prior, “please, Ouma-kun.” Oh, she was saying his last name again. Despite himself, he felt a little disappointed. “Please.”

 

He couldn’t say _yes_ just like that… but… he couldn’t say no either. In a moment of brutal honesty, Kokichi bit his pride and said, “I’ll see what I can do,” just like a normal human would.

 

It worked. Akamatsu squealed for joy through the line and Kokichi winced back. “Ouma-kun, thank you! I knew you were a good person!” Kokichi flinched. Although he doesn’t pride himself on being a _good_ person, he wouldn’t exactly say he was a _bad_ person, he was just a person! What was so hard to get about that?

 

“Whatever, whatever.” Between Akamatsu’s words of encouragement and his own anxiousness, he felt positively sick. Gross. He doesn’t need encouragement from _Akamatsu_ , but now that she spilled her innermost feelings to him she probably thought they were close now or something. She didn’t know a damn thing about Kokichi except for his crush. Funny, that. “ _Anywho_ , now that Akamatsu’s done being a _crybaby_ -” he ignored her distant ‘ _hey!_ ’ over the phone “-I think it’s about time that I turn in. Akamatsu-chan is _so_ boring, ya know, I almost fell asleep listening to her _five whole times!”_

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure, Ouma-kun. Goodnight then.”

 

And with that, he hung up, looked at his text conversation with Saihara and added:

 

 **_Me:_ ** Hey, actually scratch that! Your family is probably full of boring old people, but Saihara-chan’s interesting enough, so I *suppose* I’ll come with. Don’t bore me!

 

* * *

 

“Hm, so Ouma-kun, the dance is coming up, huh?” Jesus Christ is that all this school talked about? It was either about him, or Saihara, or fucking dances. Pathetic. “Planning on asking someone?”

 

Kokichi shot Amami an unimpressed look, levelled his glare at Iruma who was listening to the exchange with just a little too much interest, and turned back to Amami. “Please. Supreme leaders don’t beg.”

 

“Ha… I wouldn’t call asking begging thou-”

 

“We don’t beg,” Kokichi took a big bite of his burger as if to prove a point, chewed it, and then swallowed it perhaps a bit too hastily. He started pounding on his chest as he coughed. And like the great friends (ha, friends, funny story) they are, Iruma and Amami didn’t do a single thing to help. Eventually the food managed to squeeze down his esophagus, but he had to take a long drink of his panta to make it go fully down. After a moment’s thought, he said, “gee, thanks for the help guys! Seems like those first aid classes we took helped a _lot_ , huh?”

 

Amami shrugged, “it’s not our fault you don’t know how to chew your food.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be off sucking Akamatsu’s dick or something?” He walked himself right into a comeback that Amami could use on him and he knew it. Amami opened his mouth, drew in a breath, and Kokichi cut in- “nevermind! I don’t wanna know what freaky stuff you both get up to!”

 

Amami gave him a goddamn _smirk._ Ugh, the smug bastard!

 

“... so you’re really not gonna ask anyone to the dance, shota? What, you a chicken?” that was about the lamest insult Kokichi could think of, fitting of the self-proclaimed genius inventor.

 

He waved her off and took another bite of his chicken burger. It sizzled and dissolved into a wonderful flavor on his tongue. He took special care to chew it properly before answering back, “damn, you really are a dumb whore, huh? _Chicken?_ What are we, in third grade?” And with that, he took another bite of his burger and watched in grim satisfaction as Iruma’s face dissolved into a massive array of colors.

 

Amami held up his hands placidly. “Haha, hey now…”

 

Gone from her temporary stupor, Iruma pounded her hands on the table and leaned forward to get right in Kokichi’s face. Kokichi didn’t back down, he merely stared into her eyes, raised a singular eyebrow, and bit off another bite.

 

“Ha, like anyone would wanna go with a jerkass like you!” Iruma leant back and crossed her arms as though she were satisfied with her conclusion. Dumbass. “... so I’ll give you the opportunity of going with the one, the only, Miu Iruma!”

 

Kokichi stared at her. And he stared. And then he stared some more. Iruma began fidgeting in her chair under his gaze, arms still crossed and mouth still stuck in a wide, crazed grin, but the edges began seeping downwards in a desperate attempt to turn it into a frown.

 

Eventually, she asked, “w-what?”

 

And Kokichi smirked, turned away, and said in complete monotone: “like I’d ever go to the dance with you. You’re annoying, stupid, ugly, and a whore. No thank you, I’ve gotta reputation to uphold. Go ask someone who’d actually give your ugly ass a chance, Hanamura seems like he’d like to cop a feel.”

 

When he had turned his head, he had taken to staring straight at Amami. The boy shook his head sternly, like a parent telling his child nonverbally that they were going to have a stern talking to later. Kokichi stuck his tongue out at him and languidly rested his head in his palm.

 

He pretended not to notice when Iruma got up to go the bathroom.

 

“... you’re actually an idiot, aren’t you?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took special care to avoid Amami’s searching gaze, his tense expression, everything that would tip off how _angry_ he was at Kokichi. “It’s not my fault that Iruma can’t read the air.”

 

“You can’t seriously tell me that you didn’t know what that was about, Kokichi, you’re perceptive.” Kokichi drummed his fingers against the table. It was moments like these where Kokichi could tell that he had grown up raising thirteen sisters. He had pulled the first-name card and everything.

 

Kokichi feigned ignorance. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“You’re gaslighting me now?”

 

“What’s a gaslight?”

 

Amami stood up, took his lunch tray, and began to walk away from the table. Kokichi finally looked at him, startled by the sudden clatter. Amami’s whole demeanor had darkened, to the point where his head looked a few shades darker than the rest of his body. His eyes stuck out in stark contrast, lined with mascara and eyeliner and widened as they gazed right into his soul. It was creepy. “I see you need to be left alone. I’m going to check on Iruma.” And with that, he left.

 

Kokichi was alone.

 

A few months ago, he would’ve been happy. Now, as he sat in a crowded lunchroom where everyone had friends except for himself - he’s sure that Amami and Iruma wouldn’t actually consider him a friend, and he would say the same - he had never felt more alone. He fiddled with his phone and opened up a drafted text that he had _almost_ sent to Saihara the previous night.

 

 **_Me:_ ** Will you go to the dance with me?

 

Ha, yeah. Yeah right. He backspaced and deleted the text. He wanted to help Saihara if what Akamatsu said was true - more than he had ever wanted to help someone in his life - but a stupid _dance_ wasn’t the right way to do it. Who knows if he’d even say yes?

 

At that exact moment, Saihara texted him.

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **hey. you alright?

 

He looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Saihara was sneaking glances at him from over his own shoulder. They made eye contact for a split second only for it to break apart a moment later, Kokichi fumbling to answer back to his text and Saihara hurriedly typing a new text of his own.

 

 **_Me:_ ** I’m fine!

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **so the weather?

 

Kokichi had to restrain his laugh. Saihara _sucked_ at small talk.

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **uh… i mean. you’re alone. why? i just saw amami and iruma both leave.

 

 **_Me:_ ** They went to go have sex. It’s a thing.

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **… don’t he and kaede like eachother?

 

 **_Me:_ ** Yep!

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **you’re lying aren’t you?

 

 **_Me:_ ** Nishishi~! I dunno, *am* I?

 

Yep, Saihara was definitely the best. Not even a minute goes by of him feeling like shit and Saihara is already texting him, not even intent on making him talk about his feelings, just opening the option for him and then proceeding to go along with whatever convoluted lie Kokichi thought up next. This one was weak, he’d admit it, but _Saihara_ somehow made it so fun! He saw through every lie, every tick, every action that Kokichi did and it both infuriated and exhilarated him.

 

Ugh. He wanted to see him.

 

 **_Me:_ ** … hey. Are you busy right now?

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **well kaito is talking about some NASA project thats going on. theyre gonna try sending a probe to another galaxy or something

 

 **_Me:_ ** So no then?

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **…

 

 **_Me:_ ** What?

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **why? whats up?

 

 ** _Me:_** I wanna ditch. You’re fun. It’d make sense for us to ditch together!

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **ditch?? like ditch school???

 

 **_Me:_ ** No, ditch our kids. Of course ditch school!

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **why tho???

 

 **_Me:_ ** Just for a little bit? It’ll make me feel better…

 

Manipulative, of course. But Kokichi wanted nothing more than to see Saihara finally, to talk to him, to love him even if he himself was unaware that he was being loved. Kokichi just _wanted_ him, their social cliques be damned.

 

 **_Saihara-chan <3: _ **… fine. ill meet you at the school gate in a few minutes.

 

Kokichi got up and practically sprinted out of the cafeteria. He forgot to eat the rest of his burger.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi was nervous. He had never skipped school before, even if it was only going to be for a period or less (Ouma hadn’t actually _said_ that, but he was sure as hell going to make sure it was for only that long). His hands started sweating and he had to wipe them on his jeans; _what if they told his uncle?_ With that on his mind, he strolled to the school gate, completely unaware that he had forgotten his winter clothes until he felt the snowflakes hit his nose and his body immediately reverted to its’ natural state and began shivering wildly.

 

Crap. He couldn’t go back now, Ouma would think that he abandoned him! He’d just have to grin and bear it…

 

… is what he _would’ve_ thought if Ouma hadn’t ditched _him._

 

Despite leaving at least five minutes before him, Ouma was nowhere to be seen. To passerbys, all they would see would be a severely underdressed kid in front of the tall gates of Hope’s Peak Academy, school bag slung lazily over one shoulder.

 

“Jeez, O-Ouma…” he brought out his phone and stared at it. Nope, he hadn’t texted. Classic.

 

Right as he was about to give up and head back inside, dismissing it as another one of Ouma’s pranks, Ouma ran up to him, holding bundles and bundles of cloths in his hands with two heating pads on top. A familiar striped cap rested on his head.

 

“W-What, is that my _cap?_ H-How’d you get that, it was in m-m-my room!” Now that he looked closer at the pile, all of the clothes were his! Except a single thin purple blanket, but based on his color scheme Shuichi was willing to bet that was Ouma’s.

 

“I _figured_ that Shuichi was gonna be an idiot and forget his outdoor clothes, so I brought some!” he held up the pile for emphasis. It had to have had at least three or more different sets of shirts and jackets in it. “And then I know that you’d _still_ be cold, so,” he gestured to the twin heating pads with a tip of his - _Shuichi’s_ \- cap.

 

“A-A-And the b-b-b-blanket?”

 

“Well…” Ouma stared at it for a moment, everything about him completely and indecipherably blank. After a moment, he straightened up and gave Shuichi the brightest smile. It was kind of cute. “You can worry your pretty little head about that later!”

 

“Ouma-kun… i-isn’t t-t-this a b-b-b-”

 

“ _Alright,_ time to get you all bundled up,” and with that, Kokichi unceremoniously dropped all the cloth onto the cold, hard, snowy ground. Thankfully they had just swept the entranceway and the sidewalks earlier that morning, but _still-!_

 

Kokichi held up the smallest of the layers first, just a normal white baggy shirt that he usually reserved for sleeping. Despite the fact that he was already wearing a shirt and a blazer, Shuichi slipped it on no problem.

 

Next he was handed a green, ugly turtleneck with the letters ‘SS’ emblazoned on the front that had been given to him as a joke gift from Kaede before Christmas. Slightly more thick, but Shuichi could roll with it. He struggled a bit more to get it on over three layers of clothing, but he managed.

 

By this point, only his hands and face were cold. “Hey, Ouma-kun, I think I’m-”

 

A sweatshirt was tossed at him. It was red and yellow and had the letters ‘HPA’ in Verdana font printed on the front, on the back there was a list of all the students in their class. Ouma was already picking through the three clothing items that remained. With a sigh, a grunt, and a _lot_ of flattening of his gut - more like his _clothes_ \- Shuichi slipped the sweatshirt over his head. It didn’t quite get the whole way down, it stopped listening about halfway down his stomach.

 

Before he had even finished, a pink, frilly Sayaka Maizono look-alike costume was thrust his way. Ouma didn’t pay mind to the fact that he had _practically just ordered Shuichi to get in a dress_ , he merely looked between the two clothing items left, as if deciding what to try next.

 

“Ouma-kun!” by this point, he was actually _hot._ The entire situation was ridiculous, and if Shuichi didn’t know for a fact that one of his clothing items was going to tear once he tried to take it off he might’ve laughed. “OUMA!”

 

Ouma paused. A set of bee’s wings that looked like it belonged to a child fell to the floor, spinning as it descended to the ground. In his other hand he held a rather normal looking pair of - oh nevermind they were assless chaps. How had he managed to hide that stuff in the pile, had Shuichi just not paid enough attention?

 

“Yes, Saihara-chan~?”

 

“... I’m not putting on a dress.”

 

“Why? It’s a disguise!”

 

“Why aren’t you disguised then?”

 

Ouma looked down at himself, grinned, and looked back at Shuichi, an electric thrill piercing through his heart at the shorter man’s sharp gaze. “Jokes on you, this isn’t my true form at all!”

 

Shuichi _really_ felt like he was dying. “... hey, can I take off this sweatshirt? I’m too hot.”

 

“Saihara-chan, _no!_ You’ll ruin it!” Ouma rushed him, hands firmly planted on his hips once he arrived. He gave Shuichi a long once over, dragging his eyes so deliberately over Shuichi’s body that he felt shivers and chills crawl up his neck.

 

“O-Ouma-kun…”

 

“Oh, are you still cold, Saihara-chan?” Ouma leaned up towards him, so cute and so small and his lips looked so plump and-

 

the fuck.

 

Shuichi tore his gaze away. “No. I’m fine. Thanks.”

 

Ouma shrugged, stalked towards the side of the gate, and sat down against the wall, grabbing his purple blanket along the way. The two heating pads and Sayaka Maizono’s replica dress and those bee wings and those stupid assless chaps were strewn about the entranceway. He beckoned Shuichi closer with a wave of his hand and he lowered his gaze just enough that Shuichi could only describe it as close to a ‘come hither’ look.

 

Shuichi complied.

 

He sat down right next to Ouma, way too hot but he could manage to say his sentences without stuttering, which might’ve been Ouma’s true intention now that he thought about it. “So…” he started. What could he even say? He had no idea why he was even there.

 

“So…” repeated Ouma, but he seemed far more content just resting there than Shuichi. Curiously, he regarded Ouma. He had the cutest little smile gracing his features and the most serene, pleasant look in his eyes, like he had just had the best night of his life.

 

Ouma rested his head against his shoulder and Shuichi’s heart _burst._

 

He lifted his head to look Shuichi directly in the eyes. He reached up and-

 

-put the other half of his blanket around Shuichi’s shoulders.

 

He couldn’t help the small swell of disappointment that rose in him. He didn’t know _what_ exactly he was disappointed _about_ , he just knew that he wanted more - _something._

 

As Ouma laid his head back against Shuichi’s shoulders, Shuichi resisted the urge to reach down and pet him. He looked pettable.

 

_What the fuck, Shuichi. He’s not a cat._

 

… he kinda looked like a cat.

 

_Nope! Nope, not going there!_

 

Instead, Shuichi just laid his head against Ouma’s and sat there, in complete and utter silence, draped together by a thin purple blanket up until the evening sun began to sink into the horizon.

 

* * *

 

The day of the dance, Kokichi Ouma was freaking the fuck out.

 

He was going stag because he hadn’t had the balls to ask Saihara out. He couldn’t help it, everytime he even _thought_ of the boy his hands started fidgeting and he started sweating and feeling anxious and nervous. _Dammit_ , it was all his fault!

 

Amami sat down on his bed, casually flipping through a novel while Kokichi fretted about the room, never bothering even once to ask what was wrong. Not like Kokichi would tell him. He was smart enough to have figured it out by now, anyhow.

 

“Iruma’s not going, you know.”

 

It was the first time that Amami had spoken in a while, so when he _did_ speak Kokichi nearly collapsed straight through the floorboards. “Huh?”

 

Amami glanced up from his book, appearing as though he was trying to make eye contact but not actually maintaining it. “Iruma’s not going. It’ll just be us two.”

 

Kokichi didn’t even _want_ to go, truth be told. He would give anything _not_ to go. Dances were stupid to begin with, he hadn’t been in the best mindset at all the past month (really, Shuichi had been pretty much his only saving grace) and he didn’t even have a date. Although Amami and Akamatsu weren’t _officially_ going together, they practically were. He’d just be a third wheel.

 

_“Shuichi’s not going with anyone either, Ouma-kun! Maybe you two can dance together or something!_

 

Ugh. What a bitch.

 

He turned around to face the mirror again, pressing his blazer to appear as flat against his torso as possible and fixing the bobby pins keeping his hair out of his face. Personally speaking, he rather liked his suit. Not as colorful as he normally preferred, but it was doable. It was a solid gray with stripes of lighter gray mixed in throughout. A pocket watch chain hung out of his vest and tied to another part of it. He had even dabbled a bit with blush, although he didn’t put too much on because he’d rather still look male, thank you very much. He already was effeminate enough as is.

 

“Are you listening to me?”

 

Kokichi tilted his head back just so. “Hm? Oh, Iruma-chan? Well…” he straightened his jacket one more time. “... I don’t care.”

 

“... Ouma.”

He lowered his hands to his side. “I don’t care, okay? Stop trying to make me feel bad, it won’t work. Let’s go to this stupid dance already.”

 

From the mirror, he could see Amami stand and walk towards him, albeit slowly. He turned around once he reached Kokichi, giving him a once over as his gaze lingered on the lapels of his blazer. They must’ve been folded wrong, because Amami reached out and straightened them, patting Kokichi’s chest when done to make sure they stayed like that. “You look weird in a suit,” he stated.

 

“Your face looks weird.”

 

“Very mature.”

 

“I’m the embodiment of mature! Look, I’ve got a pocketwatch and everything!” Kokichi opened his blazer to show him, like a kid showing his parents the money he got after putting his tooth under his pillow.

 

Amami hummed. “You look good, though. Shirogane’s good with fashion.”

 

The deepest recesses of Kokichi’s heart wanted to ask, _do you think Saihara-chan will think that?_ but he refused to give into his wants. Amami might be good at reading a situation and at that reading people, but he’d refused to be open with him unless absolutely necessary. Screw that.

 

So Kokichi merely gave him his brightest smile, said “of course I look good!”, and began marching towards the door with Amami in tow.

 

* * *

 

On the day of the dance, Shuichi Saihara was miserable.

 

He had completely failed to ask out Kaede and he was now forced to be the fifth wheel, watching from a table as his friends danced with their partners. _On the bright side, they did good with decoration_ \- Shuichi thought bitterly. The walls were lined with gold and ruby hearts, actual rose petals and forget-me-nots and tulips gracing the tables as centerpieces or, in the case of the roses, thrown about haphazardly, gracing the floors and the tables and creating a hell of a job for the janitorial staff.

 

In the center of the room a pack of ultimates danced. It looked as though a few were forming a circle in the very center, where the ultimates that had some sort of dancing-related talent would run in and bust a move. Shuichi sighed and leant his head on his palm, watching as Kaede and Amami danced together, hands interlocked. Occasionally Amami would spin her and her pink ball gown would go flying, and Kaede would have such a beautiful, Duchenne smile on her face that Shuichi almost wished that he _didn’t_ like her so that he could be happy for them.

 

Kaito and Maki dropped down next to him. Maki released a sigh, mumbling something along the lines of “this is why I hate dances, it’s brats like that…”

 

Kaito thumped him on the shoulder. “Hey, bro! How’re you holdin’ up?”

 

Shuichi shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I’m just feeling a bit awkward.”

 

“Then go dance!”

 

“I would, but…”

 

“But?”

 

“Well…”

 

At that exact moment, the Cupid Shuffle came on and Kaito had completely forgotten their conversation topic. He grabbed Maki by the hand and began pulling her forward and onto the dance floor, ignoring her threatening mutters. Shuichi watched as her crimson train faded into the crowd, along with the rest of his friends.

 

_Ah, this sucked._

 

He tapped his foot in time with the music. He had never been much of a dancer, so he was fine like this… really… he was.

 

His eyes felt hot and heavy all of the sudden. He held his fists against them, begging and internally screaming for them to stop, to be freed from this damn curse and be away from it all. This sucked. It all sucked.

 

Despite himself, he grabbed his phone and texted Ouma.

 

 **_Me:_ ** hey. are you at the dance?

 

It wasn’t even thirty seconds before he had responded.

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Yeah.

 

 **_Me:_ ** did you come with someone?

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** No.

 

For whatever reason, just that response alone made Shuichi’s heart leap for joy. Maybe it was just because he wasn’t in the situation alone, maybe it was because of something else, he couldn’t name it. But despite himself, he smiled.

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Did you?

 

 **_Me:_ ** no. i couldn’t ask the person i liked. i got too scared.

 

And then his frown was back. An empty, awful feeling settled within his very being. Was that too much? Did he seem like a loser now? What if-

 

 **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Me neither.

 

His heart dropped. _Ouma_ liked someone? _Kokichi Ouma?_ The Kokichi Ouma had a _crush,_ and _he_ was too scared to ask her out?

 

 **_Me:_ ** who do you like?

 

He didn’t get a response after that. The Cupid Shuffle finished playing and Kaede and Amami briefly came back to sit down and get some refreshments, but Kaede was up like a rocket once the chicken dance came on and Amami was forced to follow her.

 

The line dance songs continued playing, one after another. Kaito came back again, this time without Maki, who had apparently went to the ladies’ room. Though Maki had come up behind Kaito right as he had explained her situation, and an effective slap across the head had shut him up right then and there.

 

After a while, the line dances stopped. Then the slow dances started. The couples gathered in the center of the room, resting their heads against eachother’s and spinning around in a circle that was sure to leave them dizzy.

 

He was the only one not up there. And if he looked across the room, he would also notice that Tenko Chabashira was completely alone. Despite that, Kokichi Ouma was nowhere to be found.

 

_Did he lie?_

 

“Shuichi Saihara,” he turned his head back and Ouma was there right in front of him, all dazzling and glowing under the pretty pink and red technicolored lights that the school provided for the occasion. He was holding his hand out, offering him to take it, and there were crinkles in his eyes as he looked upon Shuichi, so totally and completely _genuine_ that Shuichi was taken aback. “May I have this dance?”

 

“But…” he looked around cautiously, in case anyone might’ve seen them. No one was paying attention. “There’s people.”

 

Ouma shook his head. “Who cares? C’mon,” and like that, Ouma latched onto his hand and started running, forcing Shuichi to keep up with the pace he had set. Ouma’s hand was small and weak and cold, but so, _so_ inviting that Shuichi just wanted to hold it to his face and caress it.

 

They were outside of the gym. As the door closed, the muffled sounds of _Oblivion_ by Bastille filled the room outside, and the situation was so ridiculous but so enthralling and Ouma looked _so_ entrancing that he was okay with it.

 

Ouma held up his hand, gesturing for Shuichi to take it. Shuichi hesitated. _What if someone saw? What if someone thought wrong? What if I think wrong, what if what if what-_

 

Right as he felt the urge to tap his thigh, Ouma grasped firmly onto his hand and held it tightly within his own, not allowing Shuichi the chance to escape. He slid an arm around his waist to hold him closer. In a low voice, he whispered: “it’s okay, Shuichi. No one will find us here. It’s just you and me, okay?”

 

_When you fall asleep_

 

Ouma looked him in the eyes, so serene and beautiful and caring. He’d seen this side of Ouma for the longest time, a side that very few had ever seen.

 

_With your head upon my shoulders_

 

He had told him about DICE.

 

_When you’re in my arms_

 

Ouma grinned and strut forward, forcing Shuichi backwards in stride with him. Shuichi didn’t know a single thing about dancing, and based on how much Ouma kept stepping on his toes he was willing to bet the same about him.

 

_But you’ve gone somewhere deeper_

 

They made a big, dramatic turn courtesy of Ouma, almost losing their balance in the process.

 

_Are you going to age with grace?_

 

He was so beautiful.

 

_Are you going to age without mistakes?_

 

He wanted him to know that. Despite what other people said to him, despite how people might talk about him behind his back, he wanted Ouma to know how _perfect_ he was.

 

_Are you going to age with grace?_

 

( **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Heeeeey~! Saihara-chan! Are you up?)

 

_Or only to wake and hide your face?_

 

( **_Me:_ ** yeah im up)

 

_When oblivion_

 

(Despite himself, Shuichi Saihara found himself smiling.)

 

_Is calling out your name_

 

(“Yeah, I’m gay.”)

 

_You always take it further_

 

“Hey, Saihara-chan?” whispered Ouma, gaze twinkling with such a brilliant shine that Shuichi wanted to lean down and kiss him. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

 

_Than I ever can_

 

“No,” he muttered, eyes watering as he finally realized _what_ it was he had been missing all this time. He had never been missing Kaede. It was him. It was always _him_. “I’m doing amazing.”

 

_When you play it hard_

 

(Shuichi couldn’t stop staring at Kokichi Ouma.)

 

_And I try to follow you there_

 

( **_Kokichi Ouma:_ ** Weellllll, I was thinking! Do you wanna hang out?)

 

_It’s not about control_

 

( **_Me:_ ** how about one of our dorm rooms?)

 

_But I turn back where I see where you go_

 

“Hey, Saihara-chan,” began Ouma, staring up at him with nothing short of reverence. “I… I… I think I… the person I…” he sputtered, face flushed a bright, brilliant red as he gazed upon him with marvel and wonder and everything that Shuichi certainly was _not._ “I can’t…”

 

He grasped onto his shoulders, but they didn’t stop swaying, they didn’t stop moving to the melody as everything crashed and burned around them, as the whole world watched, and as Shuichi realized the truth. “Hey…” he whispered, boring straight into Ouma’s eyes, “hey… it’s okay, alright? I… think so too…”

 

_Are you going to age with grace?_

 

“Saihara-chan?”

 

_Are you going to leave a path to trace?_

 

“I think I understand it all now, Ouma…”

 

_When oblivion_

 

He leaned down

 

_Is calling out your name_

 

and kissed Kokichi Ouma.

 

_You always take it further_

 

The world watched and he didn’t care.

 

_Than I ever can_

 

He wanted to love Kokichi.

 

_When oblivion_

 

He wanted to understand Kokichi.

 

_Is calling out your name_

 

And in that moment, as Kokichi kissed him back and grasped the back of his head with his hand and they swayed with the movement and chapped lips pressed firmly against eachother, Shuichi knew that he liked Kokichi Ouma. He wanted to be with him, the rest of the world be damned. He didn’t understand his feelings for Kaede, or what might’ve been feelings, he didn’t understand himself, and he sure as hell didn’t understand Kokichi and what might’ve happened in the past that had made him so jaded.

 

_You always take it further_

 

In that moment, all he wanted to do was love Kokichi.

 

_Than I ever can_

 

**ONE MONTH, ONE WEEK, SIX DAYS LEFT**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY HERE!!
> 
> Please please please leave a comment telling me what you guys thought, it's my life! I'm gonna try not to take too long with chapter 6 cuz it's been a while, so hopefully that's out in about a week. Seeya guys then!
> 
> Twitter:  
> @M_BTree

**Author's Note:**

> It's pretty short, but this chapter serves as a prologue of sorts. Future chapters will almost definitely be longer and more detailed, I just wanted a lil fluffy start with a bit of background on the current situation to start us off with.
> 
> This fic won't be overly long, I'm guesstimating around 10 chapters since the future chapters will be longer, but I'll only be able to tell you all definitely once I finish the outline.
> 
> Also just to clear it up, THIS FIC WILL NOT SOLELY BE ABOUT THEM BEING MENTALLY ILL! Obviously that's a big part of it, especially in later chapters, but I don't want that to be the defining quality about it. I mostly wanted to show them all being awkward teenagers with awkward crushes and awkward behaviors, and I incorporated mental disorders into it because I want to show people that a person isn't defined by their disorder. That being said, a big part of the fic will be about mental health. Neither Saihara nor Ouma have been diagnosed by a professional at this point in the story yet. Ouma has a vague idea about his (if you can tell from the last couple paragraphs), and all Saihara knows is that he's super anxious. It'll be explored more as they go on.
> 
> Anyways, please leave me a comment telling me what you thought! Thank you! Hugs and kisses <3


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